Deathless
by OMhypothesis
Summary: Garrus Vakarian experiences the final battle against the Reapers, and faces the potential destruction of the woman he loves.  Heavy imagery.  M for blood, sex, and language.
1. Chapter 1

_Deathless_

****I've been a fan of the Mass Effect series for a long time now, and feel especially drawn to Commander Shepard. After I finished the third game installment I, like many of you, felt bereft. The following story has resulted from my attempts to give myself a little closure; I also offer my rendition of the relationship between Shepard and Garrus Vakarian. I fully admit this story is very stream-of-consciousness; I am a first time submitter, so constructive reviews and criticisms are welcome. **

**All characters, scenery, and original plot-lines are the sole property of BioWare. I'm just a fan with an itch. ****

Crumpled, burning, the scaly skin between his shoulders flaking and smoking upwards in the strange netherlight, he watched Shepard stumble towards the Reaper beam.

A flash of red, a slash of sound, as shrieking husks fell before her spasming arm.

Blackness blossomed in the center of his vision, and he fell.

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The sweetness of his memories was a warm sea in which he swam. He had brought her human wine, a non sequitur clutched carefully in three talons. The cool glass tapped and scraped against the roughness of his palms as he walked. He carried it in front of him like a flag, his elbow joint stiff in front of him.

He recalled her face tilting towards him as the doors to her cabin hissed open, her uncanny eyes shifting, warming at his approach. He felt a tingle across his fringe at the quirk of her mouth, a gentle upward twitch that had always meant, _My friend. Glad to see you._

In their civvies, there, he had felt the extent of her alienness wash over him. Her naked, larval skin, the strange depthlessness of her voice, the pad of her odd pale feet against the deck, clickless and whispery. The brush of her hair, that dead fringe at once springy and lifeless, drawn fine like the secretions of arachnids, hanging, disconcerting. When he reached to brush it, it clung to his talons before twitching away. It felt light as air.

If she were of his own kind, he would praise the strength of her body, the roll of her hips. He would shake out his fringe and display, blue blood rushing to his extremities to to turn him a gorgeous mauve. He would scrape her until she scarred, roar, overwhelm her until she lay prostate and filled; they would brood together and release in a familiar battle rhythm.

But Shepard was not Turian. She was Other. She ghosted across the killing fields like an echo of death. What did that ghoulish drell call her? _Siha._ Yes. Angel of War. The angel stood before him, arms akimbo. Her oddly jointed hands rested on the edges of her pelvis. She was at once ethereal and extremely animal; he felt the coppery pulse of blood beneath her membraneous skin, fierce and forceful as a desert wind. Her breath, bitter and earthy, washed across him as they stood together. He fidgeted uncontrollably.

All at once she pressed her mobile mouth against his scarred right mandible. The heat of her exhalations was sudden and overwhelming. He reached out, his claws tacking into the fabric at her waist, and gripped. Her own cool, spidery phalanges brushed the skin above his hips, slid, then _rubbed_ in maddening circles until he moaned into her neck. Armored clothing crashed to the floor. He scraped his hands down her body until red tracks rose on her skin. In the climate controlled room, her red hair fluttered against his chest, tickling him where rougher sensations couldn't reach.

"Sweetheart… oh sweet Jesus…!" she gasped as the pads of his fingers brushed against her clavicles, her bosom, the apex of her sex. She pushed him down and anchored him in the sheets, sliding upwards along his hips, until he felt the hottest part of her against his own jutting need. "Oh, Shepard," he sighed, as he pushed into her. A sweet twitching sleeve surrounded him, holding, making way, and he began to move there in her darkness, seeking the join.

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He woke up in the shaking Mako to a maelstrom of sound and fury. The overheat sensors blared against his battered eardrums, resonated in his head until he thought he would split in two. The scaly skin down his left side tingled with phantom nerves. He craned to see how badly he was burned; jammed up against him in the makeshift stretcher was a bloody and motionless T'Soni. At his right hip was an Alliance stranger, at the helm Commander Alenko driving them towards the improvised docks through smoke and Reaper fire. "Shepard!" Garrus screamed. "Where's SHEPARD!"

"M.I.A.!" bellowed Alenko from the helm. "Couldn't find her in the debris!"

"SHE WENT INTO THE BEAM!" Garrus roared. "WE HAVE TO GO BACK!"

"Joker!" cried Alenko to his headset. "We're coming in! WE'RE COMING IN, JOKER!"

"NO! No, damnit…" As Garrus tried to lift his head, he felt fire shoot up his shoulders and down his burned arm. He fell back, weak as a fledgling, trembling with rage.

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"We'll win this," he'd panted against her shoulder blades. "We won't go down now… we _can't_…" As he pumped their hips together a low, jagged keen resonated up from under her rib cage, her lungs mirroring his lungs, her back to his plated front, dewy and slick. She threw her head back against his neck with a cry and a gasp, her hands twisting back to grasp his forearms and squeeze. His talons dug into her iliac crest, drawing pinpoints of fragrant hemoglobin, as she melted around him.

The final battle was hours away and they couldn't get enough to last. They drove themselves up again and again, to the point of pain. Even as he shuddered and growled into her, she was twisting in his grasp to face him, heedless of the bloody ellipses his claws left in her skin. The need to bite her, mark her, rose up in him till his bright eyes clouded over.

"Put your teeth on me, Shepard," he ground out. "Rip me, bleed me, make me feel..!" Straddling him, she rose up on her knees and put her lips to the tender scales between shoulder and spine. In a flash of black ecstasy he felt her bite hard, severing the skin, and suck. He lifted her tender wrist to his mouth and sank his fangs down, down into the vein. She cried out, her teeth still in him, and they ground together like that, their mutual pain aflame, until they both came again.

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The Normandy had excellent gravity replicators, but he felt the shuddering roll of the ship beneath them as Joker fought their way up out of Earth's atmosphere. The metal gurneys of med-bay hummed with the vibrations of battle. Dr. Chakwas hovered over him, applying medigel to his wounds. She found the livid mark on his neck and reached for a swab, but his three-fingered hand snaked out and pinned her wrist to the tray. "Not that one, Doctor," he said gently. "…Leave… that one." The steel-haired human laid her other hand on top of his, then moved away.

Slowly Garrus lifted his battered torso to a sitting position. He looked bleakly around him. Bodies littered the gurneys around him, in various states of emergency. At the back, a blanket covered a still form, a blue foot hanging lifeless over the edge. To his right lay Liara, breathing shallowly, so…. Samara. Loss seeped into his mind.

"Doctor," he said in a low voice, "I have to get to the Citadel. Shepard's up there, and she's alone."

Chakwas gave him a measured look, then pulled up video on the biggest of her screens. The Citadel wavered in and out of focus, its arms still drawn and sealed. The doctor cleared her throat. "As you can see, Garrus, the Citadel is still closed. If Shepard's alive in there, well… she's on her own." She turned bleary eyes on the room full of the dead and injured, and added softly, "God help us all."

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Garrus clawed and dragged his way down to the Armory, half-mad and going on full. Cortez sat by the battered shuttle, tinkering. He appeared to be missing a foot.

"I'm going to need that now, Cortez," said Garrus, then paused. "Can she still fly?" Cortez peered up and blinked at him slowly, as if underwater. "Garrus… what?"

Behind them both, Commander Alenko coughed, causing Garrus's tattered fringe to flare. "Garrus, would you like to explain what you're doing?"

"Going to get Shepard."

"Christ. Doctor Chakwas said you were having problems, but she didn't tell me you'd fucking lost it." Alenko moved towards him grimly, hands out to grab.

Garrus sidled back towards the shuttle, dragging his burnt side. "No offense, Kaidan, but I'm not going to leave the Commander up there to die."

Alenko paused. "Is that what you think we're doing? Ah hell, Garrus." Tears, that singular human excretion, threatened in Alenko's eyes. "Fuck, you think I don't feel what you feel? She was the best of us! We all want to go after her! But we can't. We have to get our shit together and save what she's left us!" He shook his dark head briskly, then resumed moving towards Garrus. "So help me, I'm going to put you back in med-bay before you get more of us killed. I'm sorry."

With a sense of terrible purpose, Garrus reached back for his gun, but before he could unclip it Cortez gave a low moan.

"Commander, Vakarian…. oh, look. Oh, oh, look…!"

On the armory screen Normandy's forward visuals were displayed. All around them Reaper ships hung ominous, gunfire still blooming in the blackness. But the Reapers were still. Slowly the red beams ceased, the dreadnoughts' demonic glow fading out. And in the distance, almost too slowly to perceive, the sealed wings of the Citadel began to open.

"What's happening, Commander?" asked Cortez anxiously. "Why aren't they firing? Why aren't WE firing?" The vacuum of space, silent and suddenly still, threw his question back at them.

"I think she's done it," breathed Alenko. "I can't… I can hardly… the Crucible! It's moving!"

Massive wings opened like flower petals, and the universe's last great defense moved ponderously into place. Every living creature seemed to hold its breath: one minute. Two. Alenko and Cortez stared into the vid-screen as if into the face of God, the glow of the visuals lighting up the tired shadows in their faces. Slowly, dreamlike, a shimmering light began to wash through the black Reaper ships.

"She's stopping them!" hitched Cortez. "She's STOPPING THE REAPERS!"

Garrus looked at their backs, heaved in a breath, and said, "Well, fuck this noise. I'm going after her." He resumed his painful, scraping motion towards the charred shuttle.

"Wait!" said Alenko from behind him. "I'm coming with you!"

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Agony. Each choking, gasping breath tore flesh from her trachea and burned in her crackling lungs. Each lunge for air shook her burnt husk of a body, cracking the remnants of her lips, tearing the crisp skin over her sternum. If there was skin left. The beam. The damned beam. Thrown clear, gasping out her last breath, her mind looped the same thought, over and over… _Can't see… is it over yet? …Over yet?_

From a million miles away, the console at the helm of the dying Citadel chittered. "Ssss…..pard. Shep…rd. ….Here?"

_God_, she thought, meaninglessly. _God._

"Coming….. you, Shepard. Come…. get…."

_Is it over?_ she thought, again. _Can it finally be over? _ Her mind ticked down, cooling, and she dissolved into the darkness.

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Alenko vomited neatly to the side of the reeking piles of human remains. Even ill, he moved more quickly than Garrus, who was struggling to pull his wounded weight forward. Their metal boots slid on the gore-slicked floor as they rushed forward, desperately seeking a working elevator, a stair, anything in this hellish reconfiguration of a once-beloved port of storm. They found the black hall at last, piling rubble across the broken flooring till they could climb across into the glowing light of the Citadel tower. Anderson's body met them. He sat upright in a pool of cooling blood, his eyes half closed in death.

Garrus saw the shadow of her body first, a dark hole against the shimmering beam at the other end of the platform. With an impossible exertion of force, he broke into a shambling run. Alenko followed behind.

The body before them was burnt nearly black. No breath issued from its nearly lipless mouth. Shocked tears slipped down Alenko's face, but Garrus pressed his palm against her heart.

"Give me the goddamned medigel!" he cried. He poured it out over her body like water, spreading it with the pads of his fingers, taking his own hands away when he realized what his claws might do. He poured it into her mouth, then leaned in to kiss it into her throat. No sign of life met him there.

"Give her your breath! Breathe into her!" he barked, and the dark headed human complied. Garrus picked the still-hot remains of Shepard's N-7 armor off, shocked to find patches of almost healthy skin beneath. "Come on, Shepard. Come on, love, _breathe_."

An eternity slipped by. And then. "…Gr…s…?" Shepard managed, voiceless, air against teeth.

"Oh, fuck," gasped Alenko. "Oh, fuck."

"I'm here, lover," said Garrus into her sightless face. With the soft insides of his fingers he touched an unburnt patch below her knee. She twitched, minutely. In his head he heard her laugh. "Gonna take you home now. You deserve a rest."

Her throat worked. "….Go to h…ll…."

"Already there, baby. Followed you down."


	2. Chapter 2

****To my sweet readers who tagged and reviewed: I wasn't intending to make this more than a one-shot, but you all have encouraged me to try and take this story a little further. Merci mille fois for your kind words and suggestions. Please continue to educate me, and I will try to give you something good. (And if anyone is inspired to beta for me, I could use all the help I can get.)**

**All characters and original plotlines belong to BioWare. I'm just another dreamer.****

Her heart stopped before they got to the ship. Kaidan Alenko resuscitated her on the floor of the shuttle with portable paddles. He had to shock her twice before she rallied. Garrus released her hand while the electricity coursed through her maimed body, then reached again, gripping her tightly despite her injuries.

He'd carried her through the armory to the ship's elevator, forcing his flagging left side to keep up. She seemed too light; her formerly solid mass of muscle and bone seemed to be melting into the air before his eyes. She coughed against his chest, a ripping, meaty sound that he felt in the pit of his own stomach.

He fell to his good knee at the door of the treatment room and stayed there, gasping for air, as Chakwas and a deputized Tali raced forward to lift Shepard to a bed. "Stabilize her head!" snapped the doctor, her eyes bright and wet. "Oh Jane, my sweet girl…!"

"She... lives?" breathed Liara from an adjoining gurney. Garrus, propped up against the wall, turned his head to meet her eyes.

"Come on people, hustle!" barked Chakwas. Tali was methodically stripping the twisted remains of armor and underclothing from the blackened and twisted body, tacking on medical equipment, smearing on burn salve. The doctor sought an uncompromised vein for an IV. Garrus slumped, colors and sparks interrupting his vision, before a dark and insistent sleep overtook him.

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With help from EDI, Kaidan hailed Miranda Lawson. She was a virtual stranger, but he knew the value of her expertise, so he chanced a message on the failing extranet.

_"M. Lawson:_

_Shepard lives but she is in bad condition. We need you and any of your equipment/technology you can muster. She is onboard Normandy. Shepard is humanity's best offering for cohesion in the face of galactic catastrophe, but we will need your help to make her ready. I do not mention personal interest in her wellbeing._

_Don't make me beg, Miranda._

_Regards,_

_Commander K. Alenko"_

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The Normandy's medical supplies were dwindling. Since Shepard's last stand on the Citadel, the local relays seemed to be malfunctioning, and long range communication was limited to expensive quantum-entanglement links. Joker and EDI took on as much fuel as the ship was capable of carrying and set a course for the Lunar colony despite reports of Reaper devastation. As Joker cryptically said, "Any port in a storm."

Garrus awoke on a pallet in the engineering quarters, a line filled with dextro-amino fluids dripping into his right elbow joint. The trauma of the past few days washed over him like a wave, and he felt panic, anger and absolution in equal measure. He ripped the crude IV from his arm and shuffled to the input monitor.

Tali, with characteristic xeno-scepticism, had patched him in to the ship's security mainframe. He checked med-bay first; Shepard's vital signs were weak but stable. In her encrypted inbound messages he intercepted bulletins from Hackett, sporadic articles from the Alliance News Network, and incoming coordinates from Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor. It seemed that what remained of Lawson's original Lazarus team, plus a contingent of ex-Cerberus scientists, were inbound to Luna Base. That was all to the good.

With a rumble, he lifted himself to a standing position. 75% of the pain was gone; he suspected he'd added a few more scars to his growing repertoire, but he wasn't overly concerned. He'd once prided himself on being a handsome man, but the only eyes that mattered now saw past the external; Jane Shepard was a woman with a remarkable ability to get to the heart of things. He only hoped his heart, such as it was, would prove stalwart enough to match her.

He made his way up to med-bay, where Liara sat on a stool roughly de-briding Shepard's arms and shoulders. The scraping sound of the steel brush on skin and muscle tissue made Garrus feel ill. He was glad to see that Shepard's legs and torso were in better shape; Chakwas had contented herself with hosing them down in an enzyme solution and applying a skin-matrix compound. That left her face… damp bandages lay over her blackened forehead, and they had smeared a micronized silver cream over her mouth and nose, but it was clear they needed Lawson's team if they were going to restore her facial skin to anything more than functional.

Liara looked up. He could see she wore a human surgical mask; it looked blindingly white against her blue skin. "Many of the internal electronics added by Cerberus were destroyed by the heavy radiation she took from that beam, but some of the intramuscular nanites are still working, and her skin weave has survived in places. That should make restoring the dermis easier." Her blue eyes were weary. "We don't know how much damage her internal organs took from the radiation, but she'll be catheterized and on intravenous fluids for at least another week. Kidneys, liver, and heart are returning to normal function. But it's likely… it's likely that…" Words seemed to fail her, and Liara turned her eyes back to her work.

"What is it, Liara?" prodded Garrus, gently.

"Dr. Chakwas says Shepard's reproductive system is irradiated beyond repair. And she's lost two fingers on her gun hand for sure. There may be more damage we cannot see yet. Her eyes…"

"You're both doing your best for her, Liara. She knows that, and I know that." Garrus's tone was soothing, but the thought of Shepard's clear eyes blurred over and blind, of her extraordinary genes never being passed on, made him swallow hard. He sat on a nearby empty gurney, letting his hands dangle helplessly between his knees.

After a long time he began to speak. "I've bound myself to the Commander for life. But I'd often wondered if she would, in time, consider bearing a human child. She is a galactic hero and it would be… gracious of her to extend her lineage, but the idea of it made me jealous. I'm ashamed of myself now. What children she… we… could have raised." He sighed. "Now her line will end with her, and we'll all be less for it."

"Her line won't end here," said Liara quietly.

"What do you mean?" asked Garrus, puzzled.

Liara let out a breath, then sat back, squaring her narrow shoulders. "I have loved Shepard since the moment she rescued me, all those years ago. She and I, on many occasions, have shared one mind. My first child will have her eyes." Liara gave him an appraising, almost defiant look. "I realize this may discomfit you. But you should know… her children will live for a thousand years."

"Liara…" He rose and placed his heavy hand over hers on Shepard's gurney. "Thank you, friend. I know the Commander would be honored beyond words."

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"Arriving at Luna Base intergalactic airport in T minus thirty minutes, Mr. Moreau," intoned EDI on the overhead speakers. "Surface scans suggest heavy structural damage and infighting among surviving organics."

"You hear that, Alenko?" called Joker to the bridge. "Get ready for a bumpy landing!"


	3. Chapter 3

Miranda touched down in a commandeered ex-Cerberus flitter, deftly avoiding debris. The cloaking software Cerberus had salvaged from the original Normandy had served the association well; this vehicle had a modified skin that made it easy to avoid detection both in the void and in Luna's artificial atmosphere.

From the updates Tali had managed to patch through, it seemed Shepard had been temporarily relocated from Normandy's sick bay to a retrofitted bunker building on the south side of the military port. Conditions on the ground suggested this was a wise course of action. Miranda sent Jacob and Dr. Cole, along with civilian passengers and a handful of the old Lazarus Cell, to rendezvous with Alenko aboard the Normandy. She herself took the remaining two members of the security detail and headed out toward Shepard.

The military city beneath the terraformed dome was in bad shape. Dead or dying reaper-spawn waited seemingly under every rock and cranny, and the occasional Alliance team would appear to do a sweep. The bodies of the indigenous helium miners who had sought refuge here had mostly been cleared away, but bits and pieces remained, and Miranda could hear the frantic chatter of survivors over the extended com. She and her team reached the bunker entrance, where two of the Normandy's crew stood hollow eyed with machine guns.

"Miranda Lawson. I'm here to help," she said, lowering her own weapon.

"Miss Lawson, you're expected. Your men will need to wait with the inside guards. Please proceed."

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At 36, Miranda was older than Shepard and much of her crew, even if her youthful face didn't show it. But looking down at the Commander in her hospital duds, she felt like a child at a parent's sickbed. Miranda had no mother, and no father worth mentioning after she left the Illusive Man. Shepard had become a figure of comfort and steadiness Miranda Lawson turned to time and again.

Now she seemed very small. Chakwas and the Alliance medical staff on Luna had done the best they could by her, but even through the gauze and skin complex applications that covered Shepard's face, Miranda could see the damage. Shepard's short auburn hair, lashes, and eyebrows had been burned away, so that what remained seemed strangely bare. Her once-strong arms were thin under the bandages. An old-fashioned IV stand held bags of fluid that dripped steadily into a line on her neck. Other tubes led away from under the blanket, carrying away her waste. Her chest rose and fell shallowly, slowly.

"This is nothing," murmured Miranda at last, sinking down onto the stool beside the bed. She reached out and brushed her fingers across the Commander's brow, her touch tender and delicate as a moth's wing. "We've done this a thousand times, you and I. Piece of cake."

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Garrus woke up to gut-wrenching screams echoing down the corridor. He was out of bed before he registered their issue, running down the hall to Shepard's unit.

"AAAAHHH!"

"Bring her down _now_!" screamed Miranda. "Her heart's beating out of her chest!"

"I don't have anything - she wasn't supposed to be awake for another week -"

"She ALWAYS wakes up early, you moron! Don't you remember ANYTHING? Go get an opiate, go go GO!"

"AAAAAHHG MOTHER OF CHRIST-!"

"You're all right, Shepard, we're just growing new skin, the nerves are forming, I know it hurts, just breathe -"

"FUCK YOU! WHY CAN'T YOU PEOPLE JUST LET ME DIE?"

Garrus's own blood was rushing through his veins, but through the haze he could see Miranda's lower lip starting to tremble. Thankfully the tech showed up with a syringe and pushed it, and Shepard's screams began to taper down.

"Jesus, James and Mary," muttered Miranda, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Garrus saw the tears on her lashes and moved forward.

"You know she didn't mean that," he growled. She glanced up at him in wary gratitude.

"…The hell I didn't," murmured the woman on the bed drowsily. Miranda's eyes flashed angrily to the tech, but Garrus held up a hand.

"What's that, baby?" he asked as he bent down to her ear.

"Don't you baby me, you god-damned dinosaur. I feel like shit."

Garrus huffed to cover a laugh. "Glad to see this episode hasn't affected your charming personality, Shepard."

"…Why can't I see anything?" she asked, slowly. Garrus looked to Miranda, who sighed.

"You burned out your retinas, Shepard. Among other things. I'm not sure even I can fix them with the resources we've got now."

"Oh," she replied foggily. Then her mouth, newly healed, twitched down in a grimace of pain. Miranda moved to grab the syringe of painkiller and push another cc into her IV.

"Miranda?" asked Shepard, her breathing slowing.

"Ma'am?"

"…I'm sorry…"

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Three days later, Shepard was propped up with four dozen or so needle-tipped electrodes in her left arm. Each one gently stimulated the muscles beneath her skin, encouraging them to rebuild. It hurt like a motherfucker.

Garrus had returned from his rotation outside and was watching her face. She could see him, albeit murkily. This new vision took some getting used to. From time to time she would shut her eyes, nauseated.

"How's the optical hardware EDI lent you working out?" Garrus asked casually.

"A little weird. Joker wasn't exactly happy with me when EDI pulled her eye out, though."

"The equipment's integrated with your ocular tissue very well. I'd recognize that evil glare anywhere."

"Thanks a lot, Vakarian." She rolled her eyes as he laughed and immediately regretted it.

He laid his left hand alongside her maimed right one. "I get that you admire me, Shepard, but three fingers? This is all getting a little matchy-matchy, don't you think?"

"Yeah, well, at least my face isn't fucked up. I mean, I'll have some scars but you were just born ugly." She paused and grew serious. "Give it to me straight, Garrus. Who have we lost?"

He sighed heavily. "I'd really rather let Commander Alenko fill you in. There are a lot of dead and missing, and you know how I am with names…" He saw her face, and gave in. "Samara, Gabriella from engineering, Vega. Reports on some of your old teammates don't look so hot, either. Shepard… we all knew this was a fight to the death."

"Gabby?" asked Shepard, puzzlement and grief mingling on her face. "Why was she even on the ground?"

"She wasn't. There was an explosion during the climb out of Earth's atmosphere. The safety regulations you helped put in saved most of them, but Gabby got caught head on. It was… quick, Shepard."

She let out a breath that seemed a mile long. "And even with all this… Lazarus technology… none of them are in here with us. Why is that?"

"You know why, Shepard."

"No, I _don't!_ I didn't ask for this. I would never have asked for _any_ of this."

He paused. "I would have. I did. I love you, Jane." She looked up at him then. The uncertainty in her bloodshot gaze undid him. "What do you need, love?" he whispered. "Tell me what you need."

"I'm cold."

He pulled off the armored shirt he wore and climbed carefully into the hospital bed, his clawed hands held above him so he couldn't mar her fragile new skin. She shifted until her right side lay flush against him, and slowly eased her right arm under his neck. He was always so warm. She felt his breath like a balm against her ear, and slowly relaxed into a precarious sleep.

****Thanks once again for your patience and kind words. I'm about tapped this weekend, but expect more action and actual story next week (and if anyone has suggestions as to how this should go, let me know, because I'm officially the worst at plot progression). A bigl shout-out to SgtGinger for helping correct my mistakes with lore. **

**All characters and original plots belong to BioWare. I'm just another crazed fan.****


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh Mighty Hero and Savior of Sentient Life,_

_I heard you tried to fry yourself on the Citadel. Pussy. I swear to god if you crap out on me I will cut out your dead heart and eat it. _

_Love,_

_Jack_

_Dear Jack,_

_You're a real sweetheart. How're the kids?_

_-JS_

_All of the ones with me made it. Some of the others didn't. Word around town is that terrorized Earthlings and stranded alien soldiers aren't mixing too well. Seems like you might be gearing up for another fucking PR campaign. While we're on the subject, how's about I pay you a little visit? I've got a tin can full of teenage biotics and I figure the safest place to stow 'em is that hole you've dug on Luna. _

_-Jack_

_Come on down, Jack. If you can make it for the crew memorial, great. Either way we'll put you guys to work. _

_-JS_

Shepard finished typing and cut the quantum connection. The light of the vid screen lit the healing skin on her face with a greenish glow. She sighed, pushing her chair back from the console, and laboriously stood. She still felt a little shaky on her pins, but real pants and a pistol on her hip went a long way toward restoring her body sense.

Garrus had reported the crew on the Normandy was getting restive, and she didn't blame them. She decided she'd leave the bunker today and head back to the ship, address everyone, maybe get a plan of action started for dealing with survivors on the ground. It would be good to start work on restoring the Luna communications hub, too. Not everyone was fortunate enough to have a quantum tie-in, and the thousands of stranded ships littering the Sol system needed another way to talk to one another.

She headed out of her room and down the hallway. Miranda and Dr. Chakwas had done an amazing job - apart from some missing fingers and an eyepatch, all her pieces were working together - but she was very conscious of the fact that she'd been in bed for weeks. Her heart pounded with the simple exertion of movement. God, when did she get so _old_?

"Going somewhere, Shepard?" said a voice from a dark doorway, and she jumped. Miranda, cat-like as always, leaned against the door-jamb, and damned if she wasn't giving Shepard the stink-eye.

"Thought I'd head down to the Normandy and see how everyone's doing," Shepard replied casually. "Wanna come?"

"I'll arrange transport, Commander."

"Thanks, but I have to stretch these legs out sometime." Miranda opened her mouth to say something, then shook her pretty head angrily.

"At least put on some boots. I'll grab my pistol… and some folding crutches."

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Shepard straightened her back as she walked through the top-level airlock, but no one manned de-con, so she tapped the controls herself. The ultraviolet bath washed over her and tingled against her skin as she stepped through to the helm.

She padded up quietly and leaned against the back of the pilot's chair in a familiar motion. The brim of Joker's hat tipped up towards her automatically. "Hey command- heeeey!"

"What's up, Joker?" She smiled down at him, filled with a sudden sense of well-being. He grinned like a lunatic.

"Your eye looks kind of like that Cerberus asshole's. But I'm digging the pirate thing."

"Smooth-talker."

"Too bad you had to cannibalize my girlfriend. Thanks for that, by the way."

"Tali found her some replacement parts!"

"Yeah but they don't match! The new one is all red. It looks weird."

A voice drifted down from overhead. "I do not appreciate your comments about my appearance, Mr. Moreau."

"Sorry, babe. You're my sexy robot lady. I love you!"

The AI's synthesized voice had a distinctly humorous tinge. "Affirmative, Jeff. And welcome back, Commander."

"Good to _be_ back, EDI. I owe you one."

She moved slowly down the steps to the control center, pausing to look around. The galaxy map was powered down, but a familiar dark-headed man stood at her command terminal, reading. "Hey, Kaidan," she said softly.

He turned abruptly, then froze. She watched him drink her in, from the crumpled Alliance uniform to her patchy, moon-pale arms, to the reddish peach-fuzz of hair that was starting to grow in on her head and brows. His lips tightened, then parted as he let out the breath he'd been holding in.

"You're here," he said, almost to himself. But he made no move toward her.

"More or less," she replied.

"You look…. good, Shepard."

She laughed out loud. "No I don't. I look like hell. But thanks for trying, Kaidan." He stepped forward then, and hesitated only briefly before enveloping her in a careful hug.

"So how's the crew?" she asked as he released her. "I heard some of them were getting a little antsy."

Kaidan sighed. "It's been a rough few weeks. Communication with the Alliance higher ups is sporadic, we're grounded, and there aren't a lot of places left on Luna where people can blow off post-battle steam. I've sent some teams out on missions for the locals, but…"

"Gotcha. Everyone's going stir-crazy."

"Pretty much. I'm feeling the crunch myself."

"Well, I'm going to make the rounds, and then you and I should sit down and make some plans. I'm thinking our next move should be to get the Com towers repaired."

"It'll be good to have your input, Shepard," said Kaidan. _My input?_ she thought. But she shook it off and moved toward the elevator.

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"Shepard!" cried Tali. The little Quarian hit Shepard almost at a run, wrapping her in a fierce hug that pushed the air from her lungs.

"Easy there, partner," said Shepard, surprised to feel her eyes prickling dangerously. She patted Tali's shoulders affectionately. "They only just finished putting me back together again, don't go busting my seams."

"Seams?" hitched Tali anxiously. Shepard laughed. The girl didn't seem to want to let her go, so Shepard touched human forehead to Quarian faceplate for a moment. "It's good to see you, Tali."

"I thought you were dead! And then when they brought you back you were so burnt, and I tried to put medicine on you but nothing seemed to help and you wouldn't wake up…"

"You did good, Tali. And Garrus tells me you've been helping to keep an eye on things, get messages through. I really appreciate that."

"Kee'lah, I'm glad you're back."

"How have things been while I was out?" Shepard asked slowly, thinking about Kaidan's demeanor earlier.

"It's been… rough. Staff Commander Alenko has tried to keep order, but no one knows what's going on outside and he doesn't really tell us anything… and he's not you, Shepard."

Shepard winked. "Not like you need Kaiden to tell you what's on the com, Tali. Nor does Liara, I'd imagine."

"Well… no."

"Any word from Rannoch?"

"Not much. From what comes through, it seems some of the Geth went down when the Reapers were defeated, but… well, our people are coming to see how useful the partnership between Geth and Quarian can be so I think perhaps that is not such a good thing… anyways it's a long way from here. With the mass relays out of commission our fleets cannot return home. So we wait."

"It'll turn out, Tali. If everyone is stranded in Sol for much longer, I think the Migrant Fleet is about to get reaaaallly popular."

"It may be so, Shepard. What is that saying your people have? Grow grass in the shining sun?"

"Make hay while the sun shines. Say, is Garrus on board?"

"What do you think? He's down in the armory, playing with guns."

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When she walked into the armory, she saw Cortez at his station, and two Turian feet sticking out from under the shuttle. For a moment her vision doubled and she saw Vega doing pull-ups in the side office. Then the image vanished, leaving an ache behind.

"Well, hello, pretty lady," said Cortez, leaning back in his chair with a smile.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, man. Although you've got more parts than you had the last time you visited."

He flexed his new foot for her approval. "It's robotic. You like?"

"You didn't get it off EDI, did you?" she asked, alarmed. Cortez laughed long and loud. "Not unless I wanted our fearless pilot to flay me alive. No, Tali scrounged it from one of the supply buildings around here, and Dr. Chakwas got it set up."

"Well you look mighty fine." Across the room she saw the Turian sliding out from under the shuttle, feet first. "Excuse me a moment, Cortez."

She approached Garrus, pausing to place her hands on her hips as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said with a grin.

He looked her over carefully, checking for fatigue. "I'd hate to think you came all this way just to see me, Shepard."

"Nah. You're just a fringe benefit."

His chuckle was low and raspy. "What is a 'fringe benefit'? It sounds very… stimulating." An unexpected heat pooled in her belly.

"Are you asking for a definition… or a demonstration?"

"Oh," he murmured, leaning in to her, "_definitely_ the latter." He straightened. "Later, of course. Wouldn't want to wear you out."

Her grin turned predatory. "Since when have you ever been able to wear me out?"

"Full of ourselves, are we?" he rumbled.

"Prove me wrong, then. 2100, my bunker? Unless you're… chicken."

"Hmmm…." He watched her walk away, covering a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Shepard sat down in the war room with a relieved sigh. As she relaxed in her chair she felt her heartbeat begin to slow. Her feet, her calves, her lungs - everything ached with the exertions of the day.

Around her crew members and alien allies began to enter and settle in. Non-officers took positions in the back while Alenko, Traynor, Chakwas, and Adams joined her around the table. The seats where Dr. Mordin Solus and James Vega would have been were notably empty. Shepard rolled her shoulder as if to redistribute an invisible weight.

As people finished arriving and the doors sealed, she began to speak. "First of all, let me say how honored and proud I am to be among you all again. Your service, bravery, and skill have been a credit to you all, and I consider you true heroes. Secondly, I've called you all in here for a reason. The fight against the Reapers may be over, but as you all know, the real battle will be rebuilding. Already we face a crisis with so many of our allies stranded in the Sol system." She paused.

"Rest assured we're all glad to have you back, Shepard," interjected Alenko.

"Thank you, Major," Shepard replied, surprised.

"It's… well, it's Staff Commander now," said Kaidan, a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.

"Right. Staff Commander. As I was saying, I'd like to discuss with each of you some specific strategies for how to get this military base operational again, as I believe it will be a crucial outpost for Earth's allies in the months to come. Without operational mass relays, many of the men and women who came to assist Earth against the Reaper invasion cannot return to their homes, and will be in need of a signal tower for extranet communications and a supply depot for runs between Earth and emergency outposts on other habitable planets. Luna is small, but conveniently located to serve these purposes, and of course we already have many of the finest engineers and technicians Earth has to offer in this very room.

"Traynor and Tali, I'd like to discuss ground conditions and repairs with you. Dr. T'Soni, I'd like to request your help with gathering information on our allies and their movements outside Earth. Dr. Chakwas, I'd like you and the ex-Lazarus scientists to confer on expanding the base's hospital to accommodate the various alien allies who will need assistance beyond what their own ships can provide, as I estimate that Earth's own medical teams are vastly overwhelmed at the moment. Cortez, as procurement specialist, I'll need you to be on call for all of these teams…"

"Shepard, may I speak with you privately for a moment?"

"Kaidan? Now's not the best time." Shepard's tone was irritated.

"It's just… there are some things you and I need to discuss, and the full crew really isn't necessary."

"So what you're saying is, you need to tell me something right now, that absolutely cannot wait until this meeting is over."

"That is what I'm saying, Shepard."

She rubbed a hand over her eyepatch. "Fine. All non-officers dismissed. Please report back in thirty." She waited until the back rows emptied out and the war room doors resealed. "All right, Kaidan. What's so all-fired important?"

"It's just… all of these ideas you're bouncing around are good, but didn't it occur to you to come to me first? This is an Alliance ship, and we take our orders from Hackett. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with us jumping into these projects headfirst without the go ahead from brass."

"This is what you wanted to interrupt my meeting for? Since when do I answer to you?"

"Well… since you've been out of commission for almost a month. I respect you and what you have to offer, Shepard, but I do outrank you… and since you've been out the Normandy and its crew have come under my jurisdiction."

Shepard lifted her good eye to stare at him. After a moment, he looked away. "So what you're saying is, I'm not in charge any more."

"Yeah. I guess that is what I'm ...getting at."

"I really can't believe this, Kaidan."

"Shepard, please don't take this personally. You've been injured and out of touch for a long time. I still value your expertise, I just need you to take a back seat for a while. Don't you think it's time you took a rest anyways? You've saved our asses, you've done your job, now let me do mine."

"Have you explained your reasoning to the crew? How'd they take the news?"

"They've adjusted very well to my leadership, Shepard. They don't need another big upset."

Shepard's face was stony, her voice low and pointed. "…You know what? You want to play this way, go ahead. See what you make of this situation. I wash my hands of it. I'm sick and tired of fucking politics anyways, never been good at them. So maybe you are the man for the job. But don't sit there and pretend like you're doing this for my own good. Don't fucking bullshit me. I've earned the right not to have you lie to my face, at least."

His expression was carefully flat. "Think what you like, Shepard. But I'm just trying to do what's best for the team."

Dr. Chakwas' fingers drummed on the table. "Staff Commander, if I may?"

"Yes, Doctor? Something to add?" said Kaidan solicitously.

"There are a significant number of crew members who are not… strictly… Alliance. Do you think they will respond well to a change in command?"

"Everyone has performed admirably so far. I fail to see how that will change."

"Perhaps you cannot see it. But many of them joined this project specifically out of loyalty to Shepard. They may have accepted your leadership in her absence, but now that she appears reasonably fit for duty, they will no doubt expect her to retake the helm."

"Everyone will have to make adjustments. If there are those who cannot, well… it can't be helped."

"Go ahead and find replacements for Tali, Garrus, and Liara, then," muttered Adams gruffly.

"Furthermore," Chakwas pressed, "have you considered the feelings of the regular crewmen and officers such as myself? Many of us continued our service on the Normandy, with Shepard as our CO, during the Collector invasions. You were… otherwise occupied, so it is perhaps understandable that you cannot understand how tightly knit this crew has become. But surely you comprehend me when I say that all of us owe our lives to Shepard many times over. Every member of the crew, down to the security guards, would lay down life and limb for the Commander. If you attempt to… supplant her in this fashion, I fear you will incite a mutiny."

Kaidan looked around the table. "Adams? Traynor? Do you agree with Dr. Chakwas' assessment?"

Traynor blushed and looked down at her hands. "I cannot speak to the rest of the crew's experiences before I joined the Normandy on this mission. But I consider Shepard my CO, and while I of course respect the Staff Commander, I… I think Lieutenant Commander Shepard is the most logical choice to oversee continued operations on Luna."

Adams cleared his throat. "Alenko, you're a hell of an officer. And you might outrank Shepard for now. But if they don't promote her to grand-high poobah of the universe in the next few months, I'll eat my cap. Also, I'd follow her into a pit of fire. We all would, and I think you know that."

EDI, who had been watching the entire conversation over the ship's monitoring devices as was her wont, took the opportunity to speak up. "Commander Shepard? If it would be advantageous to your debate, I would be happy to suspend the ship's operations."

Shepard, who had followed the entire exchange with bitter humor, rubbed a hand over her face ruefully. "Thank you for your support, EDI, but I think we're about through here."

Kaidan Alenko looked helplessly from face to face, defeat settling on his shoulders. "I… understand all of your arguments and respect them. Out of consideration for the morale of the crew and the success of further missions, I concede that Commander Shepard should retake the CO position aboard the Normandy." He finally looked up at her. His dark eyes, rather than angry, were sad. Pity stirred in Shepard's heart.

"Doctor, officers? Can you give us a moment?" The other three nodded and exited, leaving Shepard and Alenko alone.

Her voice was soft. "What's this all about anyways, Kaidan?"

"I… you've been through enough. You've done enough. I thought I'd take this one off of you. But I guess I thought wrong."

"You know better than anyone how I operate. I don't stop until I'm dead. And then some asshole comes around and sews me back together anyways. There's too much at stake for me to rest on my damn laurels, Kaidan. What in the hell were you… no, forget I asked. In light of today's revelations, I'm putting Miranda back in as XO."

Alenko's face filled with pain. "You don't want me as your second?"

"On the contrary. You're the best XO I've ever had… when you're not making an ass out of yourself. But there's a special project I've got coming up that I think you'll excel at, and you won't have time for anything else."

"Special project?"

"I'll let you know when it gets here. Trust me, you're not going to know what hit you."

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Back in the captain's quarters, Garrus paced. "He did WHAT?" he roared.

"Give it a rest, Garrus," said Shepard from the edge of the bed. She had to stop rubbing her face. Her new skin didn't appreciate the rough treatment.

"I'd like to break his pointy nose! How could he even think - after everything you've done? I swear, if I didn't think you'd throw me in the brig I'd go down there…"

"Yeah, well, he already got his hand slapped good. I thought Chakwas was going to stick a scalpel in his eye. Besides, didn't we have another plan for this evening? I was kind of hoping to… unwind… a little."

Garrus stopped pacing and looked at her worriedly. "You've had a long day, Shepard. I don't want to add to that by being… demanding."

Shepard's fist clenched on the bedclothes. She took a deep breath, trying to control herself, but… _oh, hell_. "Listen, you scaly son of a bitch. I've just about had it up to_ here_ with the men on this ship treating me like some kind of fragile fucking flower. If you don't get over here and get naked in five seconds we are going to have a serious problem, capisce?"

"Shepard, I'm not… hey. _Hey_." He crossed the room and enveloped her as her features crumbled into unhappiness. His arms went around her shoulders as she buried her face in the hollow under his chest.

Her breath was hot between his plates, her voice low and muffled as she spoke. "I _am_ tired, Garrus. In my body, in my soul. I'm not sure why I even fought the tide today. But believe me when I say I want you. I've never wanted anything as badly as I want you now."

"Lover…" he rumbled, and his voice made her shiver. His clawed hands stroked her back through the fabric of her shirt. Goosebumps rose on her arms. She shifted her face to draw a tremulous breath. Hesitantly she drew back, reaching her hands down to pull the hem of her shirt up over her head. For a moment she couldn't meet his gaze, afraid of how she must look to him, her skin still in strange patches, her muscles wasted and thin beneath. How much had been lost these past few weeks? How much more could this war mark her? But when she looked up his eyes were hot and intense. He knelt down before her so that they were suddenly face to face. Lifting one hand to skim the fuzz over her skull, he said, "I've _missed_ you."

Gripping his broad shoulders with her hands, she drew him forward to touch their foreheads together. Slowly, so slowly, she feathered her fingers up his neck, to the tender skin under his fringe. His eyes fluttered closed and she peppered tiny kisses up his jawline, along his cheekbones, under the hollow of his ear. She lingered there, tasting his skin with her new mouth, feeling his breath grow heavy and deep. His hands settled on her waist, squeezing and releasing rhythmically as she turned her head to touch their tongues together.

He slipped a claw under the waist of her pants, the hem of her underwear, pulling them both down to pool on the floor. He ran his nose up and down the curves of her body, filling himself with her scent. The hot huff of his breath tingled against her skin. A sweet ache was building in her belly, and she shifted against him, suddenly desperate. The rough texture of his tongue on her navel made her jerk.

"Garrus…" Her voice trembled, pleading.

"Give me… a moment," he said thickly. "It's been so long… I just need to touch you… taste you…"

He placed a hand on her abdomen and pushed, steady and inexorable, until she lay back, and then she felt his mouth on her and moaned. Her head lolled on the mattress. Her hands gripped his arms where they pressed into the bed around her, her fingernails digging deeply into his pebbled skin as he took her up, sharp lashes of his tongue like fire sizzling up her spine. The first orgasm burst behind her eyes without warning, leaving her seeing white.

"Oh my _God_," she breathed, her hands falling to her sides. Her good eye open, she watched him stand up and step back, breathing heavily. He pulled his clothing off with clumsy hands, almost stumbling back to where she lay. With an effort, she lifted her right hand to brush him, too dazed to remember her missing fingers. Her maimed hand closed around his manhood and he groaned like a dying creature, reaching out for her face.

"Jane, Jane," he panted, pressing his forehead to her cheek, her mouth, the side of her neck like a frantic benediction. He cupped her bottom and lifted her fully onto the bed, climbing after her. His movements were desperate, feverish, his rough hands rubbing up and down her body. She reached for him again and, hooking a leg around the soft skin of his waist, guided him home.

They both cried out as he slid into her. He held himself rigid and trembling as she adjusted with small movements, stretching, gaining purchase… until, impatient, she bucked beneath him. The growl that escaped him was feral enough to send a frisson of apprehension down her spine. She tightened her thighs around him as he began to move in earnest, one hand hooked into the mattress, the other beneath her hips, lifting her in time with his thrusts. His breathing was harsh, and his needle-sharp teeth scraped at her shoulder.

"Garrus… _god_!" she cried as his speed increased, harder, faster, sensation boiling over.

"_Say it!_" he ground out, his grip punishing. "_Say it_!"

"I love you!" she cried, her head falling back. "I love you, I - oh, _oh_….!" The room disappeared in a million tiny pinpoints of light. Deep in her shaking body, he came too, with a hoarse, untranslatable shout.

For a very long time they lay where they fell, his weight pressing her into the mattress, her limbs draped around him in sleep.

****I hope this short chapter was as good for you as it was for me, heh. Once again, thanks for the help and kind words. More action next week!****


	6. Chapter 6

****So I tweaked a few of my older chapters, most notably chapter 5, to edit out some spelling errors and stilted prose. I hope that hasn't confused anyone. Anyways I've taken to heart a lot of your reviews, so thanks again! Here goes nothin'! **

**All characters and original plotline material belong to Bioware. I am their spaniel.****

"Really, Jane," Dr. Chakwas tsked. "This is why you can't have nice things. If Miranda sees what you've done to your new skin weave after _one day_ of freedom, she is likely to stab you with her boot heel."

"C'mon, Doc, it's just a heat rash," grinned Shepard, unrepentant.

"Heat rash, indeed. You're a real comedian. And what are these? Mosquito bites?"

"We-eelll…"

"Enough. Forget I asked. Keep that mixture on for at least six hours, do you hear? Or I'll turn you in to Miss Lawson."

"Aye aye, ma'am." Shepard hoisted herself gingerly off the gurney and headed for the map room, trying not to roll her shoulders.

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"Hey, Liara."

"Shepard." The Asari's blue eyes contemplated her with a quiet relief.

"I was… um, wondering if you could help me with something personal. Have you got a minute?"

"For you, always."

"I, well, I wanted to set up some holos for the memorial. And since you've been with us since the beginning, and you have everyone's background…"

"I am honored to assist you, Shepard."

"And hey, listen. Garrus told me what you said. About… when you enter your matriarchy." Shepard rubbed a hand over her head, unsure of how to proceed. "I wanted you to know that I am… touched. And happy. And I wish… that I could be there, in 600 years. Or you know, whenever."

"Shepard." Liara stood slowly, her body language timid. She moved until their faces were close enough that Shepard could see her face reflected in Liara's pupils. "You're my… how do they say it? My first love. I can't deny that even now a part of me longs for you, as difficult as that may seem to you. But I see how it is with him. I see the joy he brings you. And perhaps that is enough. Do you see?"

"I do see. And I love you too, Liara. Like a sister, or a mother. Or… hell, I don't know. In a perfect universe it wouldn't matter. In your own way, you're more special to me than anyone. And… okay, this is going to get really corny, but I want you to know that wherever this life takes us, you're with me, and I'm with you. Even if we're not together. If that makes sense at all."

Liara's eyes shone. "Thank you, Shepard. It means a lot to me."

Shepard fidgeted, her cheeks red. "Don't even worry about it. Let's… let's get started on those holos."

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Thane, Mordin, James, Gabby, Samara, Legion, Ashley. Anderson.

The Primarch's son and his squad. The Krogan warriors. So many others, an endless list of comrades and compatriots who had given their lives for the good of the galaxy.

Her hands shook as she spoke about each of her lost colleagues in turn. About Ashley's fiery determination. Vega's irrepressible humor. Legion's astounding compassion in the face of genocide, Gabby's sweet and cheerful get-it-done attitude. About Samara's unwavering dedication to justice, Thane's love for his family, Mordin's stringently ethical genius. Her gaze dry and fixed, Shepard had spoken about Anderson, how he was a father to her, a true north, a steadfast support in her darkest hours. As she dragged the words out into the open air she could feel the solid weight of his hand on her back. Memories churned in her stomach, but she kept her face still as she finally stepped down to sit among the mourners.

The others had finally left, one by one, until she was sitting alone in front of the composite hologram she and Liara had built. _What's up, Lola_, mouthed Vega's image, his broad face split in a toothy grin. The screen flickered to an image of Ashley, her hair coming loose from that ridiculous librarian bun, and Shepard squeezed her eyes shut as loss steamrollered through her.

The bodies they had been able to collect in the chaos were interred here in Luna's dry, dusty soil. But so many were lost on distant moons and satellites, never to be recovered. Their absence was all at once a physical ache in the center of her chest, and she doubled over, white-faced.

Even under the atmospheric dome the wind was growing bitter. "Shepard," said the tiny com in her ear. Joker. "The light's leaving. Come home." She vomited up a sob at last, the tears spilling over her face. "Come home, Shepard."

"All right, all right." Scrubbing her face viciously, she pushed herself up and headed back to the Normandy.

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She slept the sleep of the dead for about six hours before someone started hammering insistently on her door. "Mmmrrrrrrg." With a distinct lack of enthusiasm, she wriggled out from under Garrus' warm arm and stomped to the door. On second thought… she snatched an inside-out shirt off the floor and yanked it over her naked chest, then punched the controls.

Her bleary eye met Miranda's furious face. "Forget to tell me something, Shepard?" she hissed. She sounded like a scalded cat.

"What is it, Lawson?" asked Shepard, guilty rubbing the faded claw marks hidden by her shirt.

"That woman!" Miranda growled. "THAT WOMAN is here - with a tub of teenage miscreants!"

"Oh shit. Jack's here already?"

"_Fucking bogan_!"

"All right! Jesus, Miranda, take a chill pill. I'll handle it. What did she do, piss in your wheaties?"

"Uuuugh!"

From behind her, Garrus mumbled something in Turian. Her translator didn't catch it, but it sounded irritated. Miranda rolled her eyes but retreated to the elevator while Shepard hobbled into a wrinkled pair of pants and some questionable tennis shoes.

"At least fix your shirt," Miranda whispered furiously as Shepard boarded the elevator.

"Look, lady, I'm about two seconds away from tying you up and shoving you in the airlock." The elevator doors opened onto the mess hall, and Shepard stifled an involuntary groan. The entire kitchen area was filled with chattering, nervous teenagers whose biotics were flaring and spitting in the face of several hysterical crew members. Gardner had spilled coffee all over the stove, Kaidan was backed into a corner working on what looked like a hell of a migraine, and Chakwas appeared to be trying to vaccinate everyone. Jack sat on the divider overlooking the table, grinning like the Cheshire cat. When she saw Miranda, her grin turned predatory.

"Mi-ran-da! I knew we could count on you to play fetch!" Miranda made a sound that could have come from the Turian upstairs.

"Cool it, Jack," said Shepard flatly.

"Well, how-dee-do! Look what the cat dragged in." The noise level in the room was steadily creeping up.

"ENOUGH!" bellowed Shepard. An immediate silence descended, punctuated by Alliance boots clicking as crew members suddenly snapped to attention. "Miranda, Gardner, Chakwas! Scram!" Her baleful eye followed the three of them as they scurried towards the stairs. She directed an ominous glance at the bevy of now-quiet students. "You all! _Sit down_." They scrambled to their seats, wide-eyed. "Kaidan. Come over here."

Looking as if he wanted nothing more than a dark room and an ice pack, Kaidan moved to stand in front of her. "Jack? Get your ass down here." With a distinctly insubordinate noise Jack jumped down and sauntered over. "At ease. Jack, meet Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko. Kaidan, meet Jack." The two biotics looked at each other warily. "Well? Shake hands!" barked Shepard.

"Uhhh…" Jack dithered, but Kaidan had seized her tattooed hand gamely and was pumping it up and down. Three shakes and he let her go, jerking his hand back like he'd just touched a snake. "Okay then," said Jack, nonplussed.

"Nice to meet you," Kaidan returned flatly.

"Okay, good. Introductions over... Kaidan, this is the project I was talking to you about," said Shepard, stifling a laugh despite herself. The look he had just shot her was pure panic. "Excuse me?" he said hoarsely.

"Project?" echoed Jack, her expression turning dark.

"Yep," Shepard nodded. "Jack, you've done good by these kids, but if we're going to continue their education here on Luna, you'll need some help from my friend Kaidan here. He's an L2 and as such as been with the Alliance biotics program from its inception. He knows the weaknesses of the various implants, the many difficulties humans with biotic abilities experience, and several old-fashioned training mnemonics you've never been exposed to."

"So?" said Jack, belligerently.

"So, he can fill in the gaps not only in their education, but in yours. You have to admit the things you learned at the… facility… aren't exactly standard operating procedure." Jack was silently trying to stare a hole in Shepard's forehead. Shepard forged on. "in addition, there are several upcoming projects on Luna I'd like to put your kids to work on, but I'm going to need a supervisor and tech person to accompany you. I figure this is the best way to achieve my objectives while still giving your people valuable experience."

Kaidan's face was pale. "Are you punishing me for earlier? Because I can go to the brig. I will go right now."

"You are NOT sticking me with this Alliance DICKWEED!" yelled Jack, turning purple.

"_Oh yes I am_," said Shepard, her eyes sparking dangerously. "This is_ my _goddamned ship and _my _goddamned base and you will cooperate, or so help me, I will show your kids how to break a biotic barrier with a heavy pistol RIGHT. NOW. Are we clear?"

Jack and Kaidan stared at her, silent. "CLEAR?" she roared.

"Clear," muttered Kaidan. "Crystal," said Jack, not to be outdone.

"Excellent. Get those kids to bed. I want you all up on the bright at 0800 tomorrow."

"I hate you _so_ much."

"You're sexy when you're angry, Jack."

"Oh, fuck off!"

The last sight Shepard saw as she made her way back to the elevator was Kaidan burying his aching head in his hands.

****Feeeeeelings! Nothing more than… feeeeeelings! Okay I'm done. See y'all next week!****


	7. Chapter 7

There was something almost artistic about the contrasts on the horizon - Luna's spare, austere dust bowls dotted with carefully cultivated lichen, worn but cared-for prefab housing, here and there a precious glassed-over biodome packed with herbs and vegetables from home. Shepard wondered how much effort had gone into those few square feet of life. Around her a pervasive wind soughed and sighed, stirring up the dry ground. It was oddly peaceful.

Or it would be, if Jack and Kaidan weren't currently squared off like gunslingers in front of crowd of goggling teenagers.

Miranda stood to the side, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Remind me why this was a good idea."

"Children are the future, Miranda," said Shepard tonelessly.

"Your version of the future always looks a lot like Armageddon."

In the distance, an ominous cloud of dark energy was building over the pair of biotics. "Enough with the Asari shit!" bellowed Jack. She held her hands clenched at her sides. "You've had them doing barriers for six fucking hours, I think it's time we _moved on_!"

"If you had your way we'd be doing throws and warps forever!"

"So?"

"So that's what you do if you're low-level gunship fodder! All it takes is one tech with a dampener and you're useless!"

"Nobody seemed to mind when I was throwing up the freaking collectors for target practice!"

"Just because you have a high baseline and you can get away with that crap doesn't mean you can teach these kids shitty tactics!" Kaidan's face was fierce. Jack unclenched her right fist and made a swift, furious movement. A shockwave ripped through the air and shuddered against Kaidan's reflexive shield. With a flicker he pulled Jack off her feet, then bore down, teeth gritted, as the light began to twist and shimmer with her retaliation.

Shepard rubbed a jumping muscle in her shoulder. "Think now's a good time to step in?"

"I'm fine with them killing each other, actually," said Miranda. A small black hole appeared in the middle of the training ground, sucking Kaidan in feet first.

"Yeah, but then you'd have to babysit." Sighing, Shepard tapped her omni-tool, and an external dampener that Tali had set up in the field for her whirred to life. Jack fell to the ground with a yelp, followed by a string of extremely vile Krogan curses. Kaidan arranged himself carefully in a sitting position, rubbing his temples. Several of the students behind them burst into spontaneous applause.

Shepard moved before either of them decided to continue the fight with their fists. "All right, all right, that's enough. You two, come with me. Miranda, take over."

Jack's eyes widened. "NO! You're _not_ handing my kids over to the cheerleader!"

"Practice something fun, Lawson. Do slams." A couple of the students cheered and laughed. Miranda sauntered over, one hand on her rolling hip. How she managed moon dust in four-inch heels was beyond Shepard. Her white jumpsuit didn't even look dirty. Damn her.

One bloodshot glance from Shepard was enough to get Kaidan on his feet and moving toward home, but Jack still sat on her bruised ass, fuming. Shepard regarded her for a moment with clinical detachment, then walked over, grabbed her by the waist and tossed her over an aching shoulder like a sack of grain. _Whew. Who knew the little monster weighed so much?_ she thought, wheezing a little. _I need to put in some serious PT time later._

"NO NO NO NO NO!" Jack screeched as she was hauled away. Behind them, Miranda was demonstrating a complicated mnemonic to a bevy of extremely fascinated teenage boys. Whether or not they'd remember any of it tomorrow remained to be seen.

"If you don't quit kicking and screaming, I'm going to put a tungsten round in your rear," Shepard remarked cooly.

"Do they still make those?" Kaidan asked softly.

"I reload my own ammo," was Shepard's enigmatic reply.

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"Damn it, Alenko. I know the psychotic biotic here is …unstable, but I thought you of all people could keep it contained in the field." Shepard's hand crept towards her face, then changed course and rubbed the back of her neck instead.

Kaidan tried and failed to look ashamed of himself. "I am only human, Shepard," he commented, directing an angry glance at the tattooed woman the Commander had dumped unceremoniously on the mess table. Jack appeared to be focused on slowly picking a frayed pair of hiking shorts out of the crack of her ass.

"Did you really make those kids do barriers for six hours? Because I have to say, that seems like cruel and unusual punishment to me, even for a Brain Camp grad."

"If I did, it's only because Chief Blow-Your-Shit-Up over here has spent exactly zero curriculum hours on self-defense in the past month."

"Hey! My curriculum is rigorous and all-encompassing! You're the nun with the ruler!" Jack's expression hovered somewhere between "injured" and "murderous."

"Oh yeah? The curriculum where you spend two hours throwing beer cans at each other and then go break into Gardner's liquor cabinet?"

"Um, hello, that was one time, and also may I point out, you're a huge dick like every fucking day?"

"Yeah, well, you're the most unprofessional, lazy, self-involved little shit I've ever worked with, and I've been in the military since I was eighteen." Jack was using her index fingers to draw a somewhat questionable version of a square in the air. Shepard resisted an uncharacteristic urge to burst into hysterics.

"Children, children!" she managed. "New assignment." Both biotics turned to look at her warily. "Go to Liara. She'll set each of you up with a dossier on your… teaching… partner. I expect you to read about each other and give me a written report in 24 hours. After that, we'll re-evaluate."

"No offense, Shep, but Captain America can't have my background info. That's fucking classified."

"For once I agree. I do not authorize you to release my military records to… that."

"Well, that's too damn bad. And here I thought I wasn't going to have to court martial the two of you for insubordination." Shepard eyed them appraisingly. "Suck it up, ladies. You're going to know one another inside and out before I'm through with you, and then the real work will begin. I don't have the time or the energy to spend another month getting you up to speed, so you will either spend the next two days learning to work together, or both of you are shipped off Luna and become someone else's problem. You follow?"

"Maybe it would be best if I were reassigned to another command," Kaidan replied stiffly. He opened his mouth to continue, then closed it and subsided. His face was a mask.

Jack shot him a look of contempt. "I vote we shoot him, hide the body, and go get stoned. What say you?"

"I say both of you go to Liara now. Oh, and leave your firearms on the table. You won't need them for the next 24 hours."

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Her bad shoulder ached like a bitch in heat. The implants in her legs and feet radiated pain. She held a cold-pack to the jumping muscles in her neck, faced the vid screen, and said, "Admiral."

"Shepard. We need space for another two dozen engineers, tech-specialists and non-combat biotics. How are your restoration efforts on Luna going?"

"We've got room and work for them if you want to send them along. We'll need any rations and spare parts you can scrounge up as well. The biotic class is coming along nicely. I have faith that Staff Commander Alenko is the right man to take over command of the Alliance biotic division when the time comes."

"You'll need him. Shepard, the fleets are getting restless. The Crucible scientists that survived are working on repairing the mass relay here but their success is limited, and word from around the galaxy suggests teams in other quadrants aren't fairing well with their mass relays either. Most of the Krogan military have managed to bunk down on Mars, and the Migrant Fleet is assisting in any way they can, but the council races are increasingly demanding and a nasty rumor is going around that we had something to do with the current relay crisis. Apparently the idea is that humans benefit the most from our current situation; everyone's stuck at our seat of power, as it were. We're going to need you up here soon."

"I have no answers for you, Admiral. I may be a cipher but the Prothean recordings on relay tech are way beyond my pay grade."

"You're the big hero, Shepard. If you can't help sort this out it's going to get ugly, fast."

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	8. Chapter 8

Garrus sat in front of her personal terminal, a dark, silent mass of flesh. In the stillness, she didn't see him until his strange, cat-like irises caught the light from the open door. Stifling a shiver, she moved carefully behind him, setting her left hand slowly and deliberately on his shoulder. "Garrus?" she asked quietly. His mandibles flared as he exhaled.

"Shepard," he acknowledged. His voice was a stone at the bottom of a well.

"Something going on?" Her tone was determinedly bright, but her grip on his shoulder tightened slightly. At last he lifted his face to look at her. His eyes glittered. Cold blue stars.

"My mother is dead."

She froze for a moment, stricken. Then she slid her hand down his chest and yanked him fiercely back into her chest. She tightened her arms until his scales bit painfully into her skin. He neither resisted nor reciprocated. His eyes had returned to the screen.

"They found her body two days ago, on Palaven. My father forwarded the information to me. There won't be a funeral." He looked away.

"What about… Solana? Your sister? Is she safe?"

"Missing in action."

"_Hell._ What can I do? Tell me what to do." Her voice was urgent, rough. He continued to stare forward.

"Nothing. You can do nothing."

"There has to be something…"

He shifted abruptly, breaking her grip, and his face at that moment was far more alien and frightening than any enemy. "No, _there isn't._ Don't you get it? We're billions of miles away from Turian space." His eyes bored into hers, and they were furious, predatory. "My mother died alone in a hospital full of screaming strangers. They dumped her body in a mass grave. Neither of the men she loved was beside her. Even Sol left her to fight. There is _absolutely nothing_ you can do. You can't fix it. You can't change it. It happened that way and I'll have to live with it for the rest of my life."

"Garrus…" She refused to quail before this stranger's glare. She swallowed once, painfully. "I know you're hurting. I just want to help."

His voice was dead. "You know nothing. No human can know what it is to die without your clan, alone, as your home world crumbles around you. You don't form that bond, so don't tell me what you _know_." He turned away and covered his eyes with a clawed hand. "_To hell with your war._ I should never have left her." Shepard's tear ducts burned painfully. She pulled her hand from his shoulder and backed away.

"I'll.. leave you alone," she said stiffly. He shifted minutely. She felt him struggling with his sudden remorse.

He didn't look up. She turned and left him alone in the dark.

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There was a page from Hackett. The dead council members had been replaced this morning, and the new council was convening. They wanted her up there, advising, ASAP. Shepard reached into her pocket, found a pain pill, and popped it.

In the war room, her quarian ally stood hunched over what to Shepard's bleary eye looked like gibberish, but to a mathematician would probably be some sort of holy revelation. "How is our com tower project going, Tali?" she asked as she passed. The hooded woman threw her a 'thumbs up' without removing her eyes from her calibrations. That small human gesture, appropriated after years of teamwork, gave Shepard a sharp pang of affection. She reached out and rubbed Tali's shoulder fondly. Tali leaned in to her touch, surprised. The truth was, Luna's existing com grid had long since been repaired. Tali and her 'team' of tech support specialists had been working on building new com relays and recalibrating the old, striving desperately to keep up with a galaxy's worth of traffic. Tali, like all of Shepard's core crew, was exhausted.

Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Cole had engineered an impressive dock-side hospital with the limited resources they had, and as a result the spaceport was overwhelmed with alien craft. What had been a desolate war zone less than two months ago was now a bustling, overcrowded refugee city. Shepard had had to rope off a certain amount of flat ground for training purposes. At night even that land was opened up so that the families of workers and hospital patients could pile up in the empty housing.

Shepard made her way to Joker's quarters, which were predictably set up within eyesight of the cockpit. He was sitting hip to hip with EDI, who had somehow managed to change her 'hair' from its usual combat-ready helmet state to something resembling individual strands. Joker's fragile, sensitive hands moved through that hair restlessly.

Shepard snuck a finger up under her eyepatch to rub her healing eye. Her own hair was growing back too slowly. She cleared her throat.

"Aye, Commander?" Joker turned to her, trying to pretend she hadn't startled him.

"How are we on fuel, Jeff?"

"Um, running at about half tank, ma'am. We lent some energy out to a tech team recently, so…"

"Keep what we've got under wraps. I'm going to need you to take me to the Turian main-ship in about 72 hours."

"Can do, Commander. I'll plot a course and get 'er warm."

"Put a broadcast out to the crew. I'll need Miranda, Kaidan, Liara, and Adams for sure. Non-combat personnel can make arrangements to stay on shore for a few days. Got all that?" Joker snorted and rolled his eyes at EDI.

"I will see that your orders are carried out and the crew is prepared," the AI offered musically.

"Thanks, EDI."

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"Jack, you got a minute?"

Jack was holed up in her usual cave below engineering, stretched out on a cot with her black hair spilled over the pillow. In her hands she held a data pad. "I didn't know Mr. Eagle Scout had such a bloody past. He's definitely growing on me, Shepard."

"Glad to hear it. Hey listen, where'd you get your ink?"

"Shit." Jack rolled over to her side and favored Shepard with a disgusted grimace. "Is this going to be one of those thirty minute inquisitions where you ask me what all my tats _mean_ and do I regret it and did the one on my taint hurt _the worst_?"

"You only have _one_ on your taint? I'd pegged you for a baroque-pussy type."

"Fuck you." But Jack was laughing.

"Don't threaten me with a good time. No, but seriously, is there someone around here who does good work?"

"Why the fuck should I know? You seen any new color on me lately?"

"Spare me the righteous indignation. I just thought you might know someone."

Jack eyed her curiously. "You thinking about getting some work done?"

"Maybe I am."

Jack brightened mischievously. "Tell me where, and I'll tell you where to go."

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EDI wielded the tattoo iron with surgical precision. Shepard explained to the AI what she wanted, and EDI dutifully laid it out, just under the collar-bone, heavy on the left side. Shepard was raw and covered in blue ink when EDI put her tools aside, but she looked at the indelible mark in the mirror and, for the first time that day, grinned. "Good," she barked gruffly. EDI rubbed her down with an antiseptic oil and attempted to cover her chest with gauze, but Shepard waved it away. With her implants she'd heal quickly enough, and she wanted it to be visible immediately.

She headed away from the cockpit towards the elevator, nervousness twisting in her belly. The conversation she'd had earlier echoed grimly in her mind, giving her more pause than she'd care to admit. But it was her cabin, damn it, and her _man_. Anyone who thought she'd back down now could go hang.

The room was still dark when she entered, but after a moment of searching she realized he hadn't left. He was laid out on the bed, still dressed, an arm flung over his face. She moved to the bedside and turned the little lamp on low, standing between him and the light to shade his eyes. As she waited, she rolled her weight slowly to her left hip, settling. Her tank top stuck to her where she'd pulled it on over her new… artwork.

"Hey, lady," croaked Garrus from underneath his arm. He hadn't moved yet.

"Hey back." Moving slowly as though he might startle, she turned to perch on the edge of the bed, body angled so she could watch him.

He slid his arm away very carefully, until one eye peeked out from between his fingers. "Forgive me, Shepard," he said huskily. She felt her heart roll over in her chest, and huffed out a breath she hadn't realized she held. She reached for him, working her blunted fingers into the skin of his neck. He rumbled rustily. He lifted his hand from his face at last and dropped it, palm down, over hers. His eyes were warm again, questioning.

She gave him a little twist of a smile. "I'm here, Garrus. Come hell or high water."

His claws were tracing ghost lines over her knuckles, soothing. She felt the tension leaving her shoulders. Then he blinked. "What happened to your chest?"

"Oh." She swallowed, a nervous lump suddenly forming in her throat. "I kind of… did something. You may not like it."

The rumble in his chest changed, becoming an unfamiliar vibration. "Let me see."

Once again her hands were hesitant as she pulled the shirt over her head. She tilted her body toward the light. Beside her, Garrus went preternaturally still.

Although she was still red and swollen, the blue marks of Clan Vakarian were heavy and unmistakeable. EDI had stabbed them deep into the skin just above her breast. The lines, originally meant to fit an angular face, had been skillfully rewoven into an oval like the shape of a bite. Shepard canted her head backward, studying his face for a reaction. It was unreadable.

"Are you… angry?" she managed, voice thick.

"No," he whispered. "No."

"…No?" Her heart thudded in her chest. Why was he so quiet?

Like a flash of lightning, he was up from the bed and pushing her into the far wall, his grip painful on her arms. She felt his erection hard against her hip.

"Why did you do this?" he hissed furiously. "Why?"

"Because," she gasped, "I wanted you to know…"

"_I have given you nothing!_" he roared. "_I deserve nothing!_"

"You're everything," she said simply. "I'm yours."

A sound like a crying bird echoed from his throat. He bent his head to her and kissed her feverishly, rubbing their foreheads together in his strange way, grasping her pelvis and pulling her to him as if he wanted to occupy the same space she was in, wouldn't be satisfied until their atoms merged together. She held on for dear life.

"I'll die for you," he was growling in her ear, his accent guttural and thick. "I'll follow you forever. I'll follow you to your grave."

"And back up out of it again?" His startled laughter mingled with hers in the darkness of the cabin.

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****Tweaked a few things in this chapter. I'm trying to get back to using descriptive, evocative language, so please forgive me if I go back and rework a few hastily written chapters.** **


	9. Chapter 9

They lay facing each other, glassy-eyed with satiation, the huge palm of his hand resting against the mark on her chest, her heart drumming beneath. The sky through the window above was wild and black, an endless expansion of darkness spattered with tiny pinpoints of light and life.

He'd brought her wine, tentative and supplicant, this morning. If morning is what you could call it. The vast empty expanse in the glass was a black negation of her natural timeline. She'd yanked the bottle from his hands angrily. She'd shoved him down with a barely restrained violence. He'd lain, panting and speechless, while she took him in her mouth, drew him to explosion, then worked him up again and rode him until his hands dug through her skin. His eyes had nictated rapidly and finally squeezed shut. He'd cried out her name. All in all, it beat the hell out of a Citadel breakfast buffet.

She downed a glass of wine in long, grimacing swallows, like it was medicine. She had twelve hours before everything changed forever.

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"So you're a murderer," Jack said conversationally. "I can respect that."

"I'm starting to understand why you are completely unhinged," Kaidan muttered begrudgingly. Jack surveyed him thoughtfully, then unfolded her arms and punched him on the bicep hard enough to leave a bruise.

"You are truly an asshole of the first water, Alenko." Then she grinned. "I dig it." His eyes flickered up and Jack could swear he was suppressing a smile. "C'mon," she said, tugging his sleeve. "I've got some lesson plans I want to go over with you."

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"Well, that went well," breathed Shepard from the shadows. Miranda stood beside her, lips pressed thin, shaking her head.

"You're some kind of psychological idiot savant," the brunette stated. "If anyone else had tried that this place would be a radioactive slag heap."

Shepard shrugged. "Lucky guess."

"There's a reason nobody plays Skyllian Five with you, Shepard. Now can we lay down our hands and get ready for launch?"

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Shepard had handpicked a skeleton crew and ordered the rest to offload personal effects and supplies. Cortez, Traynor, and the vast majority of support personal had relocated to the hospital. Only Tali, Chakwas, Kaidan and Jack stayed behind to see them off.

"You two will behave while I'm gone, right?" Shepard eyed the biotics skeptically.

"Don't worry, Shep. I'll keep things tidy," said Jack, slipping two tattooed fingers into the left belt-loop of Kaidan's blues. A faint pink tinge spread across the Staff Commander's cheeks, but he managed to keep his eyes forward. Shepard suppressed her inner smart-ass with some difficulty. "See that you do," she clipped.

"Be safe, Commander," said the doctor, extending a gloved hand. Shepard shook it solemnly, nodding.

"We'll miss you," said Tali, moving in for an embrace. Shepard bent to her ear.

"Love you, girl," she whispered, and hugged her tight. Tali glanced up, alarmed, but Shepard was already moving into the Normandy, and the cargo bay doors were closing. She didn't look back.

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In the cockpit, Shepard met her crisis core: Garrus, Joker, EDI, Miranda, and Adams. Without the rest of them the place felt like a ghost ship. Shepard bent down to type in the last minute coordinates to the secret Council rendezvous.

"Leave it for the final act as usual," Moreau grumbled. EDI, in the co-pilot's chair, had a new course plotted in milliseconds, but Joker would be complaining for hours. A rare, full smile blossomed on Jane's face as she glanced at the crew members around her with undisguised fondness. "Why do I get the feeling we're headed into another Shepard Special?" the pilot continued.

"Everyone to their stations," the commander ordered calmly. "Launch in fifteen… fourteen… thirteen… twelve…" The ship darkened, and the deck began to hum.

"Five… four… three…"

The Normandy broke free of Luna and headed out into the night.

****Sorry for the short update This a quick in-between as I'm gearing up to complete this storyline. Thanks for all the encouragement and helpful criticism! See you guys soon.****


	10. Chapter 10

The ship they ported to was salarian.

Shepard expected something clinical and antiseptic, but the interior was surprisingly organic, in a way even Asari vessels didn't convey. Smooth, flowing lines dotted with planters full of strange botanicals, shifting, dappled light, the subtle air flow all conveyed a sense of the outdoors she hadn't experienced on a ship or station since the former Citadel. She glanced up at the ship's captain with her odd eyes, one bright and flickering, one still hidden behind a milky cataract of damage. "It's lovely," she stated simply, and smiled.

"You seem surprised, Commander," the salarian answered. If her gaze disturbed him he didn't show it. As with most of his race, his voice sounded faintly sardonic to her. "We are an advanced culture, and deeply sensitive to the benefits of a proper sensory atmosphere."

"Of course," she murmured. "Thank you for having us aboard, Captain."

Behind her, Miranda and Garrus had debarked the flitter and taken up instinctive positions at her three and six. Garrus rolled his eyes around the entryway appreciatively, making a little noise that sounded like a whistle. Miranda… well, she looked like she always did. She looked politely bored. "Sir, I understand the Council is waiting for us to arrive. Would you be so kind as to show us the way?" Shepard continued. With an enigmatic little nod, the gangly captain turned to lead.

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"Bailey," she barked, surprised. The man fumbled with a crutch and rose to his feet, clearly wanting to embrace her. She closed the distance and pulled him briefly into a one-armed hug. "What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, her smile turning into something genuine.

"Well, with Udina's little coup attempt and Anderson's… untimely misfortune, the short list of human council eligibles is giving the aliens fits. So I guess I'm a glorified seat warmer for now. Between you and me, I think they're kind of hoping you'd be up for the job, Shepard."

If she laughed a little shortly, no one seemed to notice. "I doubt it, Bailey. My brand of diplomacy tends to piss off politicians."

"Ah, but you're a tough negotiator. When you point that smoking barrel at 'em, nobody leaves the table."

She shrugged. "To clarify, I also set the best table in the Alliance. Come for the food, stay for the looming threat of violence." Patting him on a shoulder, she moved forward into the makeshift conference room.

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"Councilors," she nodded. They had arranged themselves in a kind of elevated semi-circle, clearly working the room to their best advantage as always. Bailey hobbled in, shut the door, and took a back seat.

"Commander Shepard. We are gratified for your audience," rumbled a somewhat burn-marked Turian. Ah, Sparatus. Her old nemesis. Or so he'd like to think, she thought grumpily.

"Indeed, it is good to see you looking… well?" the asari called Irissa managed. She fixed her brilliant eyes on Shepard's somewhat tattered body with what in human terms was incredulity.

Valern got to the point. "We need your assistance with a few issues," he said, his huge black eyes telescoping shut to punctuate his words.

"I'm sure I'll regret this, but please elaborate," said Shepard. Behind her, Garrus fidgeted. Miranda was a vision of cool white stillness. Shepard resisted the urge to spit or tap her foot.

"Without functioning mass relays, the galaxy is falling into socio-economic chaos," the salarian recited. "The scientists and engineers amassed in this quadrant have been able to conduct some remarkable studies on the remains of the old relays and the Citadel, as well as the schematics for the Crucible device. We believe we will be able, given time and resources, to build an approximation of the old technology to replace what was lost. However…"

"Here we go," Bailey muttered drily.

"However," Valern continued sternly, "there is no current 'hub' in place for a mass relay system. Ongoing research suggests the Citadel played that role, among its other functions. Without a central hub, the relay system as it stands now will not work. We can built bilateral relays that communicate with one another, but not an interlocking system of relays. Therefore…"

"Therefore, someone will need to make their way to a central star system and build a hub."

"As always, Commander, you have a quick grasp of the situation."

"How would one accomplish this? The amount of fuel needed to travel between star systems without a relay is astronomically huge, not to mention FTL travel is far from instantaneous. It would take years… decades, perhaps…"

"More than a century in total. However, we believe we are in possession of a ship, _per se_, large enough to undertake the journey, albeit in hops."

"The old Citadel," said Miranda quietly.

"Just so," said Valern, pleased.

"Don't you think that's a bit… dangerous?" Garrus queried. "From what I understand, the Citadel controlled the Reapers. And then it killed everyone aboard and tried to fry Shepard."

"We have cleared out a number of ancient system codices that were revealed when Shepard took control," trilled Irissa. "We have also done a general cleanup and removed superfluous structures. The Citadel will be prepared for launch to the nearest fuel-bearing star system in less than 8 standard Galactic days."

"Eight days? What's the rush?" Garrus was simultaneously perplexed and irritated. The three Council members glanced at one another, and then, as if in decision, back to Shepard.

"Each day is precious," Sparatus said gruffly. "Each day we… the many races of the galaxy… remain in limbo, unable to return to home and life, we get closer to true cultural annihilation, the kind the Reapers sought to bring about. As the ark hops from system to system, it can carry with it quantum entanglement constructs that will seed the mass relays being built. We estimate the nearest star system, Alpha Centauri, is less than five light years away. At FTL speeds, that means if a team leaves now, we could be sending hundreds if not thousands of refugees home in about three years. Would you wait, Vakarian?" Garrus was silent, pondering.

Shepard, who had been standing silently at parade rest throughout most of this exchange, spoke up. "Who will go?" she asked.

"We were hoping you would help us decide," said Valern.

"Me?" Shepard was not good at playing coy, but she made an effort. "I'm just an ex-Spectre Alliance soldier. I'm not much for making grand decisions." Bailey made a snorting noise that could have come from an elephant.

"There is a seat on this Council for the human race. We want you to fill it," said Irissa. It suddenly struck Shepard that for all her glamour and cunning, the asari diplomat could not compare to Liara. She slowly began to shake her head.

"You've done a marvelous thing for the civilized races," said Sparatus. "You've brought about a temporary truce and united us against a great evil. Your achievements alone have earned you a leadership position, but your value as a diplomat is a far more potent consideration at this juncture. The galaxy's peoples listen to you."

"Only when the chips are down," Shepard rejoined. "It is a universal truth that hard news is never welcome, and I've been kicked out of a LOT of meetings in my time."

"You're a remarkable leader, Shepard," said Irissa softly. "The galaxy needs you. We need you."

"You certainly have a need. But before I answer you, will you allow me to make some suggestions?" There was a general nodding and flurry of alien hands. "First off, you need to give the quarians a council seat. Without their massive fleet and their truly revolutionary insights into the Reaper AI frame, we'd all be long dead." Valern coughed angrily, Sparatus looked stony, but Irissa looked thoughtful. "Let's also face the truth. Even if a hub team is able to seed new mass relays, you're going to need the Migrant Fleet and all its travel resources sorely in the next few decades. The least you can do is give them a voice in your deliberations." She watched their faces as they thought about it. Slowly, the three seemed to come to an agreement.

"You make a valid point, Shepard," said Valern. "The Migrant Fleet is self-sustaining and the only force capable of significant lateral movement besides the… what did you call it? The hub team. We will approach the quarians for candidates."

"Do you have any suggestions?" added Irissa.

"Tali'zorah vas Normandy is an excellent soldier, gifted researcher, and more than capable of working with different races and cultures. She distinguished herself in the battle of Rannoch and proved capable of extraordinary compromise and flexibility. Not to mention she's personally assisted in taking down more than one Reaper dreadnought. But I am biased. I leave it to you to explore suitable candidates. Perhaps Admiral Xen, she seems to have a very level head on her shoulders."

"_Is this another human idiom? Are people with crooked heads less intelligent?_" whispered Garrus.

"_Shut up, idiot_," hissed Miranda.

"Also," and here Shepard paused to take a deep breath, "I think you should consider giving the Krogans a Council seat as well." Sure enough, the turian Councilor literally turned purple with rage, and the salarian's eyes began flickering open and shut so fast he looked like a crazed steam valve. Before they could light into her, she raised a hand, and -miracle of miracles- they subsided. She waited a beat to see if smoke would come out of anyone's ears (where does a salarian keep his ears anyways?), then lowered her hand back down to her side.

"They've grown," she said in a low monotone. "I know it and so do you, even if you don't want to admit it. You all saw how Wrex handled things on Palaven, and then again on Earth. The Krogan forces were magnificent. And now they have a chance to rebuild, spread, integrate. You can keep tearing one another apart, or you can get your own heads out of the sand and face the future. You have needed them twice before, you _will_ need them again in the years to come, so put aside your fear and hatred and make a new start that will benefit everyone." Shepard paused, unable to resist rubbing her forehead wearily. "Or, you know. Keep treating them like lab animals and see how long it takes before they revert and start ripping off heads. That's another plan you could do."

"You force this on us now, after blatantly disregarding our request to keep the genophage intact," Valern fumed.

Shepard narrowed her eyes. This sounded familiar. "I keep my promises," she spat. "Wrex had humanity's back when you turned yours. I'll thank you to remember that." For a moment the room seemed fraught, on the verge of violence.

"Enough!" said the Asari. "We've all made mistakes. Valern, we know your reasons for wanting the Krogan kept under control. And Shepard, we know you are anything but subtle. Given the possible consequences of subterfuge, _many of us_ think you made the right decision when you decided to honor the pact this Council made with the Krogan. In the end it is what it is. Shepard makes an excellent point when she says that the Krogan will rebuild with us or without us. I would rather have them under Council jurisdiction than the alternative."

At some point in the conversation, Garrus had appeared directly behind Shepard, his hand lightly grazing a concealed blade at his hip. She felt his breath ruffling her short hair, and turning, flashed him a quick grin. As she turned the edge of her ink flashed up at him from beneath her collar, and he flushed. The turian councilor regarded the pair with interest.

"Vakarian," Sparatus barked suddenly. "I know your father."

"Yes, sir," said Garrus, flicking his eyes delicately away from Shepard's chest.

"A very distinguished name, Vakarian. Your mother was also from a good clan."

"She was… a remarkable woman, Councilor."

"No doubt, no doubt. And you, you have no doubt made a very distinguished bond?"

"I… have no official ties, no, sir."

"No official ties. But perhaps a special woman? Another military leader? Your father could keep me updated I suppose, he is working on the Citadel renovation, of course."

"He is? He's here, sir?"

"Indeed. He has lobbied for years to keep his progeny out of my political scheming, but after recent events he will be hard pressed to keep me from submitting your name for Ambassador. I take a great interest in your career, young man."

"I'm afraid I would not make a very good ambassador, sir."

"I heartily disagree. Don't you disagree, Shepard?"

Her mismatched eyes flickered up to Garrus's glittering blue. "I do indeed. He's far too good for me to ever spare him," she said with a smile. The councilor huffed, but for a moment the marksman and the commander only had eyes for each other. Then she lowered her gaze and unhooked a data pad from her belt.

"I've compiled a list of observations and suggestions over the course of the past two months, that I'd like to leave with you before I exit today. Apart from the things we've already discussed, I've laid out an argument for decriminalizing AIs, reintegrating rogue human factions, centralizing Prothean studies, and a few other things. I very much hope that you will take my humble words into consideration. And furthermore, I will not be accepting the Council position." She laid the data pad on the desk before the three politicians, and stepped back. After a few seconds, a storm of expostulations and angry exclamations burst forth.

"Commander," cried Irissa, "please explain!"

Shepard's body ached miserably from standing so straight. "I believe my reasoning is fairly obvious, but I'll review it. First, when it comes to choosing between the interests of the Alliance and the interests of the Council, I am and will forever be hopelessly biased. Secondly, even if I did become a Councilor, there are factions on Earth and Luna that are attempting to turn me into some kind of dictatorial figurehead, and I would rather not have to kill those people. Lastly, my own work isn't over. The Reaper threat is finished, but what they have left behind still puts us all in danger. I cannot and will not rest until I am satisfied that the world of the old machines is put away for good.

"So if you will not join the Council, and you will not join the humans, what will you do?" demanded Sparatus angrily.

"Again, I think that should be obvious," said Shepard, raising one eyebrow. "I will take the hub team to Widow."

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****Let me try and explain my terrible scientific reasoning behind why the mass relay systems only work with a hub. Theoretically (and I totally stole this from Orson Scott Card), one could create a "quantum entanglement pair" which is like, one particle that is in two different places at once. Anything you do to the particle in once place, also happens to that particle in another place. So you can use the "pair" to communicate, or with, say, a different kind of particle, maybe you could use them to make mass relays. The trouble is there's only two in a pair. So if you want to use one relay to go to several different places, maybe you have to have one central place that has one of each pair. Like a server. I.e. let's say you have A1 and A2 and that is a quantum entangled pair. If you want to go from A1 to A2, no problem. But if you also have B1 and B2, and C1 and C2, and so on, and you want A1 to be able to go to B1 and C1, then maybe you have to have one spot in the middle where all the 2s go. If A2, B2, C2, and D2 are all on the Citadel, then you can go A1-A2-B2-B1 and then B1 would be some totally different place. Get it? No? Yeah I suck at explaining. Just read the story.****


	11. Chapter 11

There had been a lot of shouting, a lot of people wanting to know who the hell Shepard thought she was, and quite a few colorful cultural insults, but the meeting had ended with Irissa shaking her head sadly, Sparatus silent and angry, and Valern commenting wearily that he supposed it was for the best. Shepard and Miranda had been escorted to a kind of guest cabin or suite, while Garrus had remained behind at Sparatus' request to discuss family and political matters. After half an hour of eating and drinking in fraught silence together, Miranda had abruptly stood, looked around the little cabin, and exited to an adjoining bedroom. Shepard stretched and then settled back on a little curving piece of furniture resembling a sofa, dozing as she waited.

The door hissed as Garrus entered, and Shepard blinked up at him sleepily. "Not that I'm trying to be insubordinate," he remarked, "but would it have killed you to tell me about this before volunteering us on a hundred year mission?"

"Garrus…" She sighed, sitting up. "I know what you said," she murmured. "And I know you meant it. But you still have family here, and your sister is missing. If you need to stay, I understand. It's not like we can't catch up later, after we reach Alpha Centauri…"

He interrupted her testily. "Don't know what the fuck you're nattering on about now. All I'm saying is a little warning would have been nice." He paced for a bit, then settled next to her on the pseudo-sofa, his weight making her tip gently against his hip. After a moment he put an arm around her shoulders, and leaned to rub the side of his head thoughtfully against her temple. "Still can't believe my father's here. I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to introduce you."

"You want me to meet your dad?" She peeked up at him, oddly pleased.

"Oh, _yeah_," he said, his mandibles spreading in a wide grin. "Hello Father, remember when I abandoned C-Sec, defied the Council, and brought shame to our family? Well here's the lady that made it all possible! Also she's my wife. How have you been?"

"Your wife?" said Shepard, raising an eyebrow.

"Isn't that the human word for it? I saw a video once in cultural sensitivity training. If you want I can see if anybody has one of those pouffy dresses and some cake."

"Pretty sure we have to be engaged first, Vakarian. Not that we ever do things by the book, but you might want to read up on the subject."

"It doesn't matter. You're my wife. I mean, unless it matters to you, and then we can do whatever you want, but I'm not going anywhere. You're pretty much stuck with me for life, Shepard."

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. "Okay. Let me know when you figure out the dad thing." Her lips quirked up. "Husband." He rumbled happily.

"_Mother of God,_" came an irritable, disembodied voice from the closed bedroom. "_Will you two PLEASE SHUT IT_."

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The first leg of the journey needed careful planning. Many refugees wanted to come aboard the Citadel for the journey, but the expense of feeding and transporting them was too great. It would be more practical for them to wait until the relay was established, and make the jump then. That didn't stop a lot of angry people from bombarding the Council with requests.

It would be necessary to make accommodations for a large number of scientists, engineers, and soldiers. The first two groups were needed to finalize the relay set-up on the other side. The last group was needed to make sure an angry terrorist group didn't try to take over on the way. Add medical personnel, pilots, and programmers, and Shepard was looking at over 200 people needed to get the Citadel from point A to point B.

In order to make sure the mission's leaders would be alive until the work was finished, a number of top-of-the-line stasis pods were being installed. Shepard planned to spend the first few months of the journey getting to know her crew, then she and the other leaders would take turns with the long sleep. All in all she would spend 90% of her time aboard the station locked in stasis, waiting to wake up in between hops. She knew what this meant. By the time they reached Widow, most of the people they were leaving behind in Sol would be long dead.

Although the Council's decision to appoint Shepard command of the mission would be released within the week, she felt a responsibility to her former crew members. She began pulling up video com, scheduling meetings with each of them in turn. Alenko was the first to ping her back.

"I heard an ugly rumor," he began as his face materialized on the screen. "Please tell me it's not true."

"Oh?" She kept her tone carefully devoid of emotion. No use admitting to anything before she'd been accused.

"I heard you're planning to ditch us and go gallivanting off into space. Any comments?"

"Kaidan…"

"You can't do this, Shepard. You just can't."

She growled. "I'm not sure why you're always trying to tell me what I can and cannot do, Alenko. It never works, and it just pisses me off." _Shit._ This is not how she wanted things to go down.

"I hope you realize what you're asking. I hope you realize we can't all just pack up and leave. Jesus, Shepard, do you ever think, or do you just throw a dart at the decision board and go?"

"I know your work is here. I wouldn't… ask you to leave it. I'd like to see everyone before we launch, but I understand if you can't make it up." She met his eyes through the veil of electronics, and hers were sad. "…It has to be done, Kaidan. And you know I can't stay here."

His voice broke. "_Why_? Tell me why, Shepard." Behind him in the dark, a skinny figure shifted, muttering drowsily. "They'd probably give you a whole planet if you wanted it. You could settle down, retire, drink smoothies out of crystal glasses for the rest of your life. We could… visit…"

She released a long, slow breath. "You and I both know that's not how it would play out. I did my part for Earth, but now that chapter's over. The longer I linger here, the more problems I'll cause. You're the builder, Kaidan. I know you and Jack and Hackett will make the homeworld strong again."

"So you don't want us to come."

Her voice was very gentle. "No, honey. No."

"I heard my name," croaked the woman on the bed, lifting her head up. She shoved long dark hair out of her eyes and examined them both. "What's going on? Are we leaving?"

"No," said Kaidan. "We're staying." Then he covered his face with his hands like a child, and wept.

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Sallas Vakarian looked just like Garrus. Shepard's gaze jumped between the two of them in disbelief. Both of them stood, arms folded, glaring at each other. It was like watching a man stare down a photo of his former self. She struggled to conceal her amusement.

"Hello, Father," said Garrus at last. For an absurd moment she thought he would repeat his little speech from earlier, and her hand inched towards her gun.

"Hello, my prodigal son," said the elder Vakarian grimly. "It certainly took you long enough to show up."

"I've been a little busy."

"Yes," Sallas rejoined ominously. "I _heard_." He shifted perspective, and Shepard felt the full force of his disturbingly familiar blue eyes. "I take it this is the infamous Commander Shepard. Tell me, human, should I be thanking you or arresting you? My son does seem to be alive, although somewhat battered, and perhaps a little further along in his crazed vigilante routine."

"Father, please show my CO the respect she deserves," said Garrus wearily.

"Certainly I will exchange pleasantries with the human, son. As soon as she stops fiddling with the safety on that firearm." He eyed her again. "It would be a shame to have to dispatch you, Commander. My progeny seems quite fond."

Shepard couldn't help it. She threw her head back and laughed. Both men turned to look at her incredulously. "I fail to see the humor in the situation," Sallas remarked finally.

"It's just… heh… you guys are exactly the same! It's a little… ahaha… a little bit disconcerting." She wiped her eyes at last, and folded her arms behind her back.

"I beg your pardon," said Sallas.

"The same?" asked Garrus, horrified. "As_ him_?" She flashed him a toothy grin, and he colored.

"Enough." Sallas cleared his throat. "Am I to understand, son, that once again you plan to follow this creature on some sort of wild project? That you are once and for all abandoning your duties to the Turian forces in favor of more _space adventures_? Because despite your demonstrable instabilities in the past, I'm having a little trouble believing it."

"Spirits, Dad, you don't have to be so dramatic." Sallas stared at Garrus, then threw up his hands and appealed to Shepard instead.

"Commander, surely you see that after all that has occurred, our race needs young men of quality. My son should be here, with our people, rebuilding and procreating. He has remarkable potential. Make him see his duty. Don't rob us of another leader and father."

"Oh, good grief." Garrus raised a hand to his face in an unconscious mimicry of Shepard. She glanced between them, suddenly solemn.

"I can see that you are very proud of Garrus," she said softly. "I'm proud of him, too. Over the course of the last three years, it has been my extreme privilege to work with him. He has contributed more talent and effort to protecting this universe than I can possibly explain in so short a meeting. Now, once again, he is stepping up to the plate and giving his best. Certainly you can't deny him his right to do that? I myself cannot, and will not. I'll confess, I don't see how I could do without him."

"Impossible woman," Sallas snorted. "A hundred soldiers could perform the task you ask of him."

"None a tenth so well," she maintained loyally.

"Fuck it," exclaimed Garrus. "Dad, there's something you should know."

"Garrus…." Shepard warned.

"I love her."

"Oh, Jesus." She scrunched up her face and waited for the explosion. There was a deadly silence.

"Is this one of those human phrases that has some alternate meaning?" Sallas asked quietly.

"No, Dad."

"So you're saying you… feel affection for this human?"

"Affection, love, lust, adoration. She's my mate." Garrus reached out and took Shepard's hand. "I go where she goes."

Sallas processed this for a long moment. "Damn it, son." He kneaded his neck with a huge fist. "…We'd all better adjoin to my quarters. I'll make some drinks."


	12. Chapter 12

They drank, and talked, long into the night.

The similarities between father and son did not end in the physical, Shepard found. Sallas was as fiercely idealistic as his son, although his ideals came from a place of unrest and war between her race and his. As rigid and uncompromising as she had always thought Garrus to be, it dawned upon her now that he was in actuality rather bohemian for his kind. Where Garrus saw _person_, the majority of the Turian race still saw _alien._ And at first, outnumbered two to one, she had felt a bit like the creature from the black lagoon.

The feeling soon passed. As the first hour unraveled to the second, Sallas Vakarian's eyes rested more and more on her own. Awkwardly, but somehow gently, he drew her into the conversation. How did his son's face come to be so scarred? Was she responsible for that as well? No? She saved him? Oh. Had they been bonded then? Ah, the bond of soldiers. This was something he understood well. He told them a story, one that Garrus had clearly heard before. A story of when Sallas was young, serving his mandatory time in the Turian military. A story of when he had met Garrus' mother. His voice was strangely laden with harmonic tones and susurrations. Shepard's untrained ear recognized gladness. Wistfulness. Love.

"If I may, sir," said Shepard. She cleared her throat, a memory of a recent terrible night briefly obscuring her vision. "I was… extremely sorry to hear of her passing." She glanced at Sallas quickly, then flickered away. "Knowing Garrus, and… knowing you, sir, I would have liked to meet her. She must have been a remarkable woman."

"You're wrong there, little human," said Sallas sadly. "Knowing us would not help you know her. She bested us all. To know us is to know but a few of her works."

"…I'm sorry." Shepard folded her hands in her lap, thinking of the things she could have done quicker, the lives she could have saved by pushing harder. She felt her own heartbeat in her chest, slow and deep. Alive. When she looked up again, both men were watching her face. Sallas broke the silence.

"I believe," he said slowly, " that she would have liked you. It is odd, but you… remind me of her. Her strength." He hummed meditatively. "I see now why my son was drawn to you." For a long, bittersweet moment, she and Sallas held one another's gaze, her mismatched eyes to his bright and dark. Then Garrus began to laugh.

"I don't know why I worried," he declared, snorting. "You charm the shit out of everyone, Jane. I should have known after that Elcor diplomat tried to kiss your feet. And you, Dad!" Garrus turned to his father. "Put you in a room with a pretty female for half an hour and you start composing sonnets! Well, this one's mine, I'll have you know."

"Sonnets?" queried Sallas, nonplussed.

"Pretty?" demanded Shepard, slightly outraged.

"Beautiful," Garrus declared, working her hand out of a fist so he could nip it gallantly. "And he's right. My mother would have adored you."

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The hours were passing too quickly. All around them, the old Citadel was being refitted, rebuilt, cleared and renewed until it barely resembled the city it once was. Civilian contractors set up cantinas, crew members toured bright new avenues and corridors, families carried their meager belongings into the cabins and apartments they would call home for years to come. There was even, to Shepard's sardonic amusement, a little school. After all, once they made the FTL jump, communications would be down for 1074 Earth days. It really was like the ark from that old story. A pair of everything, and enough food to last until the flood of space receded.

People who had known and served with Shepard or Garrus trickled through in little groups, bringing gifts, asking for news, saying goodbye. Dr. Chloe Michele, the pretty French woman from so many years ago, kissed Garrus lingeringly on both cheeks with tears in her eyes. Shepard noted these proceedings with one eyebrow lifted as high as it could go. She supposed Garrus _had_ saved the doctor's life. That being said… she hoped everyone had had the sense to keep their hands above the blankets. Otherwise she was going to have to teach Garrus the meaning of "petty jealousy." Horizontally. As many times as it took for her fit of pique to pass.

Her time on the Salarian ship was not wasted. A fidgety, grey-skinned young grad student with a massive pile of schematics had ensconced himself in her little suite, enthusiastically producing old Prothean data files for her to process and translate. After a few hours of this her head invariably ached, but the student, whose name was, for some unfathomable reason, "Ish," seemed perfectly happy to pump her for war stories instead. One evening, after he left in a happy flutter of datapads (to be fair, he had actually been hustled out rather unceremoniously by a certain irritable Turian), Miranda remarked, "It seems you've accumulated another worshipper, Shepard."

"Oh, he's alright," said Shepard, stretching and creaking. "Actually, I sort of enjoy the chance to lay me old bones down by the fire and spin a few yarns." The biotic regarded her carefully.

"I have no idea what you just said, and I'm starting to feel concerned," she said bluntly. Shepard laid back on the sofa and chuckled. Her desk chose that moment to chime. Miranda glanced at the screen, then back to the commander in surprise. "You've got a visitor," she said.

"Did Ish forget something?" Shepard asked lazily.

"No, it's…"

"Me," said Tali, stepping through the door.

"Tali!" Shepard shouted, springing to her feet. They closed in fierce embrace, long enough for Miranda to discreetly exit the room. "What are you doing here? Man, I'm glad to see you."

"I've been offered a position by the Council, Shepard." The quarian pulled back, the ambient light glowing off a new, pale headdress. "They want me to be an Ambassador. Ambassador Z'orah. What do you think?"

"I think," said Shepard fervently, "that it's the best decision they've made in a really long time."

"It certainly beats exile. But Shepard…"

"What is it?" The woman's gloved hands were still on Shepard's forearms. Her posture was troubled.

"Shepard, you are leaving? You will… not return?" Shepard sighed. Every time she thought it couldn't get harder, it did. She struggled for the right words.

"That's about the long and short of it, Tali," she said at last. "It's for the best. What we've done here… I'm prouder than I can say, but staying would be a mistake."

"I would come with you, Shepard. I would like _nothing_ more. But…"

"But your place is here, with your people. Believe me, I know. If you could come… if I could stay…" Tali wrapped her arms around Shepard's waist, her embrace painfully tight. "_I will miss you_," she whispered fiercely into Shepard's lapel. Shepard felt her lips trembling. "And I you. Friend." They were both making sniffling noises as they pulled away.

"There's something I would share with you, before you go," said Tali, and suddenly she was overcome by what could only be shyness. "It… would not have been possible for me to do this, before you brought the geth back into peace with my people. But the remnants of Legion gave us a great gift recently. The technology is not yet perfect, but I… we… have you to thank." Her fingers were shaky, but she was reaching for the clasps at her neck, fumbling them open. "Tali!" cried Shepard in sudden comprehension, reaching to stop her.

The woman lifted her heavy helmet away. She stood blinking and trembling in the unaccustomed light. Shepard's hands returned slowly to her sides. The creature before her was undeniably humanoid, her skin fragile and damp as a butterfly wing emerging from a cocoon. Her eyes, usually the only thing visible through a barrier of glass and vapor, were large and dilated, but gleaming blue like stars. "Oh, Tali," said Shepard. "You're beautiful."

"Shepard," said Tali. Her voice, free of the respirator, was bell-like. She drew close and haltingly pressed her lips to Shepard's cheek. A tear slid from the human's cheek to the quarian's nasal ridge, and she startled backwards. Shepard caught her wrist before she could fall. "Careful, Tali. Did I leak on you?"

"Maybe a little," she said, turning away to carefully replace her helmet. "But a course of antibiotics will fix that."

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"_O men tany akeed ragaeen_," Tali had whispered in her ear before she'd left, too softly for the translator to pick up. Watching her walk away, Shepard was feeling ridiculously weepy. Which is why, when Liara's dear face emerged on her desk screen, she was blowing her nose and cursing. "Shepard!" laughed Liara, surprised.

"Sdop lookeeg ad me like dat," said the human murderously to her tissue.

"Oh, Shepard." Liara was giggling helplessly. "I can't help it, your face is so red."

"Yes. When humans are feeling emotional, we fill with blood," said Shepard, less mucus-y but not at all mollified. "Did you call me to laugh at me, or to make me cry some more?"

"I pinged you to congratulate you, and wish you well on your journey. I hope that does not make you cry."

"Oh, everything makes me cry today. I'm a weepy old thing. ...Wait, so you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be… angry with you, Shepard?" Liara's blue eyes were agleam with curiosity and lingering amusement. Shepard regarded her suspiciously, tissue clutched like a weapon. "Oh, you know. I'm abandoning everyone, I'm the worst person in the galaxy, everything I do is unfair to everyone…"

"Please. Try to calm your mind, Shepard. You are not abandoning anyone." Liara's fingers moved over a piece of work on her desk. She was smooth-faced, alight with contentment, unperturbed.

"Aren't you the least bit upset that we may neeeverrr see each other agaaain…" Those last words came out in a shameful sort of wail. Liara's brow furrowed.

"Now you're just being dramatic."

The sound Shepard made was an undignified cross between a sniffle and a snort. "I am?" she hooted pitifully.

"Yes. I'm only 112, and you're… what, 30 human years?" Shepard blew her nose again, and rubbed her eyes. "I'm 32," she offered peevishly. "I think."

"You will have barely reached 40 Earth years by the time you hit Widow. Even if I do not meet you at one of the relays… and I cannot guarantee I will not," Liara added with what had to be a roguish wink, "We will not even be old women when your mission is completed." Shepard regarded her friend through a puffy mechanical lens. "So what are you saying?" she deadpanned, finally giving in.

"I'm saying, my darling, my light, my dearest loveliest human vision, that we will meet again. Probably many times. So stop sniveling. Garrus will suspect something."

****I realize this chapter is ridiculously sappy and silly. But I'm a fan of sweet endings, so as I gear up for the final chapter, this is what you get. Thank you all!****


	13. Chapter 13

36 hours before launch, Garrus was conspicuously absent.

The drunken goodbye between Vakarian males had ended at the artificial dawn of the fifth day, the atmosphere still laden with unsaid words, so today Shepard left her com blatantly silent. Whatever male secrets they had chosen to exchange now without her were none of her business. She spent her time shaking hands with new crew members, and ordering last minute supplies for the little room that would be her habitat for the next century. Hygienic supplies? Good. Hard copy of the entire works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? Check. Dried fruit from Palaven? Got it. Many, many pounds of authentic Earth-grown, vacuum sealed cocoa powder? You'd better believe it.

She got a message from Wrex and Eve. Eve was pregnant. Wrex promised to send her a regiment of his offspring to serve aboard her ship when they were old enough. Her reply was rude. "_I'd put in a good word for you with the Council_," she'd concluded, "_but they're still pretty pissed at me. Plus they'd see your name and know I'm lying. Good luck and try to keep your hellspawn from blowing up my solar system! One Tuchanka's bad enough_."

At last she amused herself by looking up the operating name of her vessel in various languages. The Alliiance had, pragmatically, opted to call the station the "Citadel Mark II." In the current atmosphere, naming it after an historical conveyance would have been politically precarious, so she supposed it was for the best. The Salarian name parsed out roughly as "The Great Forward Motion," while the Turian phrase translated, somewhat anticlimactically, as "Star Skipper." She liked the Krogan version the best. "Tunnel's End." Or perhaps the Quarian. "Bridge-Builder." In all languages she was Shepard, even if the plosives in her family name didn't transfer well to lipless races.

She thought she was ready when Miranda finally confronted her.

"I'm not on the passenger manifest list," said Miranda levelly. Her two eyes, unblinking, bored into Shepard's good one. It made Shepard feel her new physical disadvantages acutely.

"You aren't on my crew," she replied, her own body seemingly cool and assertive. She braced for argument, a torrent of logic, anger.

"Yes, I am," said Lawson calmly. She offered nothing else. It was distinctly unsettling.

I didn't put you on the list for a reason, thought Shepard. You have family and a future here, thought Shepard. I won't steal your potential as a leader and a visionary from you, thought Shepard. I'm not a selfish coward, thought Shepard.

"No you aren't," she blurted lamely, and immediately resisted the urge to smack herself in the face.

"Yes, I am," said Lawson. If they had been a pair of six year olds, this would have been the pinnacle of debate tactics. They were getting nowhere.

Shepard paused. "Miranda," she said. "You're needed where you are," she said, then paused.

"Why are you doing this?" Miranda asked casually, examining her nails.

"You're brilliant," said Shepard. "You have medical and organizational expertise that no one else has," she said.

"And...?" Miranda shrugged.

"What about Oriana?" said Shepard. "She's the only true family you've ever had. You have a chance to be with her now." She managed to raise her one green-grey eye to Miranda's blue.

"I don't know her," said Miranda, smooth as glass. "I'm coming with you."

"_Stop it_," Shepard hissed angrily. "I won't let you throw the rest of your future away. You're staying. I'm going. That's all there is to it." She took a deep breath, and in a moment of distinct weakness, closed her eyes to the face in front of her. One second. Two seconds. Four more seconds and she'd get it together. Three more. Two more… and she'd say goodbye.

When she opened her eyes Lawson was kneeling, hands on Shepard's knees, tears running down her pore-less face like rain on a bulletproof window. Shepard froze, shocked.

"_You_ are my family," Miranda choked out between gasps. "You are my my mother, my father, my sister. I… I'm begging you, Shepard. Don't leave me now! Take me with you. Wherever you're going." Ashamed, Miranda dropped her perfect head into Shepard's lap and sobbed. "Don't leave me behind again," came her voice, muffled in Shepard's uniformed thighs.

Jane smoothed back dark curls with her awkward, altered fingers. "Okay," she said. Miranda's hair spilled over her khaki knees like shining silt on sand. "You can come," Shepard said. She thought of everyone and everything she was leaving behind, and her heart contracted painfully. "I wanted you to come," she admitted.

They stayed there for a long moment, parent and child, for the first and last time until her death.

A day and a half later, the universe held its breath.

A deep blue glow was building at the tips of the Citadel Mark II's wings.

"One," said Garrus in the cockpit, his arm around Shepard's shoulders.

"Two," said Ambassador Tali Z'orah vas Normandy from her berth on the Salarian ship.

Three, said the people of Earth, Tuchanka, Palaven, Thessia...

"Four," Jack whispered against Kaidan's chest.

"Five," said Dr. Liara T'Soni, her smile aching.

They blazed into the black, the hopes of the multitude trailing like electrons in their wake.

THE END

***Thank you **_all _**again, from the bottom of my heart.***


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